


On The First Day of Christmas

by Clarensjoy



Series: General: Post Canon [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Arthur Weasley - Freeform, Bill Weasley - Freeform, Charlie Weasley - Freeform, Christmas, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, Minor Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Minor Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Minor Original Character(s), Molly Weasley - Freeform, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarensjoy/pseuds/Clarensjoy
Summary: Twelve days chronicling the lead up to Christmas day in the lives of the Potters and Weasleys.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley
Series: General: Post Canon [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903465
Comments: 83
Kudos: 112





	1. A Partridge In a Pear Tree

In the Potter household, the first of December was a date that seemed to creep upon its inhabitants, a feeling more than a simple block on a calendar. A cheeky guest that silently entered through the front door, slipped off its shoes in the foyer and tiptoed upstairs, eager to surprise and enthral. And so, when Harry opened his eyes, greeting the bitterly cold morning, he immediately knew, it was here.

The air seemed crisper, outside of the duvet that he was trying- and failing- to reclaim from his wife, who was still happily cuddled into the covers. The light that came through the curtains seemed brighter, whiter and filled the room with a charming glow. He turned on his side and tried a new tactic to gain some duvet. He sidled up to Ginny, having to faff for a moment, as she really was cocooned in the duvet, and put an arm around her waist.

She relaxed into the embrace, still fast asleep, and with that she relinquished some of the tight hold she had on the duvet. Harry greedily redistributed the covers, then, feeling quite proud of himself, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Perhaps it was only November thirtieth, because usually by this time, on the first of December-

‘It’s Christmas!’

He should know by now that he was never wrong about his instincts.

He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back, just in time to catch a red bundle of limbs and hair.

‘It’s not Christmas just yet, Lil,’ Harry mumbled. He stretched for his glasses and his daughter came into focus, hair clashing violently with her red chequered Christmas pyjamas. He frowned. He didn’t remember her wearing those last night.

‘It’s almost! And James and Ted will be home, and- ‘her eyes widened ‘-we need a tree!’

Harry laughed, just as Ginny turned to mimic him and lie on her back. She was squinting up at Lily, hair a mess, nose crinkled slightly. Lily wasn’t yet old enough to pick up on such social cues and so she squirmed between her father and mother, under the duvet. Harry let out a yelp when her frozen feet brushed his calves.

‘Mum! We need a tree.’ Lily dragged out the last syllable and looked at Ginny with wide eyes. Ginny brushed a hand over her daughter’s hair.

‘We’ll get a tree love, but as it’s six thirty on the first morning of December, I’m sure they won’t be all cut down by the time we get one.’

Lily gave her mum a sceptical look, then shouted her agreement, and tried to escape from the confines of the covers that she had just so finely wheedled her way into. It didn’t help that Harry started tickling her halfway through the ordeal.

‘Dad!’ Lily finally gasped, giggling as she exited the duvet and ran over the bed, narrowly missing stepping on her mum. ‘I have to go and start with decorations for the tree!’ she exclaimed urgently, as if it was the most obvious, and important, thing in the world.

‘Call me if you’re going to use the scissors!’ Ginny shouted after her daughter, who was already skipping out of the room. She shook her head, then turned back to her husband. They lay on their sides, facing one another.

She traced a finger along his jaw. ‘Do you think-?’

‘Already done. The office is slow in December anyway.’

Ginny wiggled her eyebrows at him, ‘Well, aren’t you eager to go tree shopping.’

Harry laughed, but moved quickly to hover above her, her back now against the mattress. Ginny squealed at the quick movement, then looked up at him impishly. He kissed her softly on the lips, then moved further down, kissing and nipping at her neck. She gasped and sighed and laughed when his stubble brushed against her skin, her hands came to rest on his shoulder blades.

‘I am eager for that, but I do think it can wait.’ She heard him murmur, still at her neck.

‘You know, I don’t really mind.’

He drew back to kiss her on the lips again and then said, through a lopsided grin, ‘I didn’t think you would.’

‘What is everyone laughing and shouting about?’

Their heads snapped quickly to see Albus standing in the doorway, rubbing one eye and yawing. Ginny gently pressed her palm against Harry’s chest, and he rolled off her with a rather audible sigh. She got out of bed, threw on a dressing gown and slippers and bent over to talk to her son.

‘Well, do you know what day it is Al?’

‘Um, it’s Thursday, I think,’ he said tiredly, counting on his fingers.

‘Yes, love, but the date? It’s December first, and your dad is going to take you Christmas tree shopping later today, and Lu is making decorations and you can help me make biscuits all week. That’s what everyone is shouting about,’ Ginny said.

Albus’ eyes grew wider and wider as she spoke, he looked past his mom, to make eye contact with his dad who was still sprawled out on the bed.

‘When are we going? I want to help pick the tree! Please!’

‘Well I was thinking we might try and find our own tree this year, go out in the woods and cut one down, that sounds even better doesn’t it?’

‘Yes! Then no-one will have one like ours!’ Albus jumped up excitedly.

Ginny ruffled her son’s hair, then asked him if he wanted some breakfast. As they left the bedroom for the stairs to the kitchen, Ginny looked back at Harry, winked, and promised him a cup of coffee.

* * *

It was after breakfast that the real chaos began. Harry had announced that tree hunting would be starting in half an hour when he had gotten up from his chair at the breakfast table, and his two youngest had erupted into frenzied talking and running around, trying to find their wellingtons, their one left sock, their right hand glove.

And so, tree hunting had started an hour after breakfast.

Harry laced up his last boot, fit a Holyhead Harpies beanie on his head, kissed Ginny goodbye and then stepped out into the winter landscape, armed only with his wand, and two small toddlers. Lily and Albus immediately started gathering balls of snow and hurtling them at each other. Harry made a path to the driveway as they ran about, at one point Lily used him as a shield, and he got hit square in the chest.

Albus covered his mouth, not in shock, but to hide his laughter. ‘Sorry, dad,’ he said through a grin, Lily was clinging to her father, laughing in earnest. Harry narrowed his eyes comically at Albus.

‘I’ll get you for that one.’

He stooped down to roll a ball of snow himself and ran towards his son like a mad man. Albus squealed with laughter and ran up the driveway, until he reached the row of ash trees that bordered the little lane that led to their house. Their tree hunting was momentarily held up by an impromptu snowball fight, which Lily and Albus won, having teamed up against their father.

Harry turned to face the two of them as they reached the border of the forest, situated at the end of a snowed in footpath. It hugged the curve of a valley that led away from their house, and from this distance Harry could still see their chimney, already emitting small puffs of smoke. While the forest, which was generous to term it really, was also accessible just from the back garden of Ashden Run, Harry was sure that the fir trees he sought were near this entrance.

‘Alright, you know the rules. Stay together, if you lose me, we’ll meet at Klipman’s stream. Don’t run off too far and Lily,’ his daughter perked up, looking at him expectantly, ‘if you see a fox-hole, don’t crawl into it.’

Lily looked down at the ground dejectedly and twisted her foot in the snow. Harry held out his hand to her and she took it, then repeated the gesture with Albus. Harry led them into the forest.

The ground was almost completely clear of snow under the canopy of trees but was still thawed over and hard. It was considerably darker under the sheet of snow above their heads, and slightly warmer. Birds chirped in the trees and leaves crunched underfoot.

Albus and Lily soon let go of their father’s hands and rushed ahead to explore, attempting to climb trees, looking at interesting insects. Harry kept half an eye on them while he scanned the trees. Most of them were completely bare save for snow. Definitely not lush firs, definitely not Christmas trees.

They ventured further into the undergrowth, past the path that veered off to the stream where their family had spent many a summer afternoon swimming, past the furthest point Harry had ever been in the forest, when on a run with Ginny. The trees only became denser, helped by the steady appearance of foliage on their branches, dark green leaves that struck out against the white snow.

They came upon a fork in the rough path after a while, a yew tree separated two trails, tall and proud. Its branches stretched far from its trunk, gnarled and twisting. Harry stopped when he reached it, it must have been at least a hundred years old by the size of it. His children were already climbing all over it, taking advantage of the low, flat branches.

‘Let’s take this one, daddy!’ Lily shouted from the top reaches.

‘I think this tree is quite happy here, Lu,’ Harry replied. Even if it wasn’t impossible or impractical to cut it down and haul it back home, Harry could feel something strange about the tree. Ginny’s wand was made of yew, and he had always found it quite unyielding to him, when he had used hers on the odd occasion.

‘Be careful, some trees can feel a great deal, remember that story Uncle Ron once told you about the tree at Hogwarts?’

‘This tree is nice though, it likes us,’ Lily said. She was lying down on a branch, like cat, arms and legs hanging off and swinging languidly in the air.

‘We’ll come back to it some other day. You’re forgetting that we still haven’t found our Christmas tree.’

‘Christmas tree!’ Albus descended rapidly from the yew and ran onto the path that forked to the left, Harry stepped closer to the yew and beckoned Lily down, eventually lifting her from the lower branches. She whined at the disturbance and reached out at the leaves and twigs as Harry carried her away.

‘Dad! I found it! I’ve found our tree, it’s huge!’ Albus came tearing back down the pathway, clutching his beanie on his head. He grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him along.

Indeed, Albus had found a fine tree. Or trees. The path from the yew had quickly become lined with tall and lush fir trees, powdered with snow, to Harry, every second tree seemed perfect, but his son led them along a winding path to his perfect tree. Harry had been treated to spiky bristles whipping his face along the way, his glasses nearly fell off as he worked to simultaneously follow Albus and cover Lily’s face from the same treatment his was receiving.

‘Al, are we almost there?’ Harry said, having to duck rapidly to avoid an outstretching branch. Lily laughed as she was hoisted back up, then remembered that she was upset and replanted a pout on her face.

‘It’s… just… here!’

Albus held his arms out and gestured toward a very nice tree. A tree that Harry secretly thought looked exactly like the ones they had just passed, but he ignored this and bounced Lily up on his hip, looking at her.

‘Look at the fantastic tree Albus found. What are your cousins going to say when they see this Lu?’

‘Looks the same as all the others,’ she mumbled into his shoulder.

Harry frowned, but thankfully it appeared that Albus had not heard. He set his daughter down, and she promptly ran back through the fir trees, Harry called after her, but she didn’t reappear. He assumed she was only going back to the yew tree, so he sent Albus after her, to make sure she was okay.

He pulled out his wand from his inside coat pocket and deftly flicked it, slicing the trunk of the tree cleanly. It fell to the ground with a muffled thump, some snow billowing out around it. He conjured some ribbons to tie the bristles closer to the trunk and then cast a levitating charm. He exited the thicket of fir trees with their chosen one floating behind him. He could see the footprints where Albus and Lily had run back along the path, and he promptly followed them.

As he approached the yew tree again, he could hear raised voices, Albus shouting. He walked faster and came out to the forked clearing. His son was looking up at the tree and calling out.

‘Lily! Get down, you’re too high up!’

‘There’s a little owl here! He’s all alone, just a bit further…’

Harry moved rapidly to the base of the tree, where, looking up, he could see his daughter nearing the top branches and climbing precariously even higher up. He hoisted himself onto the lowest branch and bellowed up the tree.

‘Lily! Don’t go any higher! Climb down slowly, please!’

‘I’m almost there, Dad!’

‘It doesn’t matter, whatever it is, get down here!’

He went up one branch further, trying to decide if climbing up to get her would be better than waiting at the bottom to possibly catch her, he held his wand too, unsure if he should interfere with magic. A streak of pink fell to the ground, and his heart skipped a beat, before he saw it was only her beanie on the ground.

‘Lily!’

‘I’ve got him!’

Lily exclaimed her success but was cut off short as her foot lost its grip on the smooth branch that it had been resting on, then she lost her grip on the tree entirely and Harry was momentarily struck with paralysis. Catching up with himself, without even thinking, he conjured a net at the bottom of the tree. It spanned almost the entirety of the clearing and Albus narrowly jumped out of its way.

But it had nothing to catch.

Harry looked back up and saw that his daughter was floating down to the ground, not very gracefully, kicking her legs about and trying to right herself. He could see that she clutched something close to her chest, seemingly more worried about it than herself.

He stared at her. ‘Lily…’

Only when he gasped did she open her eyes that had been screwed tightly shut. She looked around in awe.

‘Daddy…’ she said uncertainly.

Then Harry laughed. Wonder and relief washing violently over the feelings of fear that he had experienced not a moment before. He grinned up at her.

‘Lu! You’re doing magic!’

‘Me? Aren’t you doing this?’

‘No, love. Try and float down to the net, try to control it.’

Lily righted herself, then clumsily flailed her hands to move downwards. ‘Daddy, I don’t know how to get down!’ She said. Harry could see she was starting to feel overwhelmed.

‘It’s working, don’t worry you’re moving down. Just fall on the net,’ he assured, and as soon as she reached it, he ran onto the net himself and brought her up into a hug.

‘Don’t squish him!’ Lily admonished, pulling away from the embrace. Harry maintained his hold on her however, and he looked in wonder as she revealed the contents of her hands. A tiny baby owl peeked up at him from his daughter’s hands and let out a shrill tweet.

‘Look how cute,’ Lily cooed, stroking her finger over its almost bald head.

Harry sincerely disagreed but said nothing. He banished the net underneath them and he fell the short distance to the ground. He kissed his daughter on the forehead, searched for her beanie on the ground and placed it roughly back on her head.

‘Don’t do that ever again, Lily, you could’ve been very badly hurt. Call me if you want to rescue an owl or something,’ he said, lifting her chin up.

‘But I floated down, doesn’t that mean I can fly?’ she said, not taking her eyes off her owl.

Harry chuckled, ‘No. That was just one bit of accidental magic, it won’t always happen, you understand?’

Harry turned and looked for Albus. ‘Al, you remember your first bit of accidental magic. Why don’t you tell Lu about it, so she understands?’

‘Mine happened when I was at least a month younger than you are now, Lily. We were all at the Burrow…’

As Albus launched into his story about accidental magic, Lily listened keenly from Harry’s arms, all the while softly stroking her little owl. Harry’s heart was still returning to its normal rhythm, slowing down from the pace it had gathered watching his daughter fall from the sky. He made sure the fir tree was following them again and started to walk back home.

He looked briefly over his shoulder, back at the yew tree, which seemed to be emitting a happy glow, that certainly wasn’t there when they had first happened upon it. He looked back at his daughter. Perhaps she was going to wield a wand similar to her mothers.

He trudged his way back to Ashden run, chipping in occasionally to Albus’ story, but a little bit of his mind remained at the yew tree for the whole walk back.

* * *

‘Well, I must say I am impressed. I didn’t think this part of Dorset even had any fir trees,’ Ginny said later, standing back from the tree, which now stood in the corner of their living room. Not yet decorated, but looking festive, nonetheless.

Harry reached out to pinch her middle, which she easily avoided. He grumbled at her as she stuck her tongue at him. He pulled off his jumper, having become flustered from setting up the tree in the warm living room, where the fireplace was alive with flame, roaring happily.

The clock chimed four o’clock, and Harry stared, baffled, at it for a while, the afternoon had crept up on him.

‘Tea?’ he asked Ginny.

‘Mm, yes please,’ she said, following him into the kitchen, where he put the kettle on to boil.

‘So, we’ve gone three for three then,’ she said, leaning against the counter.

‘Hm?’

‘They’ve all got magic, I mean,’ she explained. He nodded. As they had set up the tree, Harry had relayed the mornings events to Ginny, helped by an enthusiastic Lilly and Albus, who were now fawning over Pluto, as their new adoptee had been so named.

‘Is it bad that I’m sort of- ‘

‘-relieved?’

Ginny blew out a long breath. ‘Yes, Merlin that’s awful though.’

Harry handed her a cup of tea and they returned to the sitting room, sitting on the sofa. ‘I don’t think it means we would’ve treated them any different. It just would’ve been a lot harder, I think for everyone,’ he said, ‘And why wouldn’t we be relieved that Lily’s life won’t be that bit harder?’

‘Yeah…’ Ginny chewed her lip then took a sip of her tea. She pondered the fire and smiled.

‘Looks like she’s going to get a proper wand then, not some silly Holly thing.’

‘Ha-ha,’ Harry said, ‘Keep your yew, that tree creeps me out, you and Lily can climb all over it all you want, thank you very much.’

‘You must take me to see it, the way you talk about it. Maybe it’ll listen to all my woes and worries, unlike someone I know,’ she said dramatically, and threw an arm over eyes, she simultaneously lifted her feet off the floor and deposited them on his lap.

‘You are very ignored around here,’ he said, starting to rub her feet.

She hummed in agreement and closed her eyes. For a while there was only the crackling of the fire making any noise. Harry grew more suspicious by the second of what his children were doing in such silence.

Suddenly, Ginny opened her eyes and sat up. ‘I almost forgot! Hermione sent a letter asking if we would join her and Ron at her parent’s house tomorrow, so I said yes. Apparently, they accidentally booked a holiday in the Virgin Islands over the twenty-fifth, so it’ll be a sort of early Christmas thing.’

‘Accidentally booked?’

Ginny gave him a look. ‘I know, but Hermione always says that they’ve been a bit addled ever since… you know. I for one know she genuinely prefers Christmas at the Burrow, so don’t feel bad about it, or I’ll beat you up.’

Harry gave her a smile, and she assessed him before nodding and settling back down on the sofa. He was just about to get up and check on Lily and Albus when they careened into the sitting room, paper chains streaming behind them.

They circled around the tree, throwing the paper chains onto the branches, which meant that the tree became very interesting on the bottom half, and was left rather dull at the top. Harry got up to help redistribute the paper.

When the tree was done, he ruffled his son’s hair, and looked back to where Ginny was on the sofa, now joined by Lilly, tucked up into her side. It had been quite an eventful day, and there was no mistaking it, Harry thought. It was definitely December first.


	2. Two Turtle Doves

‘Ron, have you ever seen Harry successfully engage in small talk? And Ginny is wonderful, but my parents have been unsure of her ever since that incident with James- ‘

Ron appeared around the corner, hopping on one foot to put on his second boot. He kissed Hermione on the cheek. ‘Alright, alright I’m here. I don’t know why you’re worried, Harry and Ginny are late for everything and we are still- ‘he checked his watch ‘- ten minutes early.’

Hermione wrung her hands nervously. She removed her scarf from the coat rack and wrapped it around her neck. ‘I just feel like we’re forgetting something,’ she said.

‘We’ve got presents, flowers for your mum, toys for- ‘

‘The children!’ Hermione shouted, throwing her hands up. ‘We almost forgot to take them!’

Hermione walked briskly past Ron, who was still in the middle of listing off everything they actually had remembered. She soon returned carrying Hugo and leading Rose by her hand.

‘And where were you two?’ Ron asked, assessing his two children.

‘You told us to wait in the kitchen, dad,’ Rose answered, looking up at him with big eyes. Ron straightened up and made eye contact with Hermione.

‘So I did, but that should teach you that you can’t just blindly follow orders around here, you’ve got to think for yourselves sometimes. Like your mum, the brightest witch of her age-‘

‘-Ron.’ Hermione rolled her eyes. She took his hand and then opened the front door. A harsh wind greeted them, blowing Hermione’s hair into her face, tangling it even more than usual. The couple each took a hand of their children and walked out into the swirling cold.

Ron swore. ‘Do you think we can join your parents in the Virgin Islands this Christmas?’ he shouted through the wind, as the family entered onto the pavement. There was hardly anyone about, and those who were were tightly bundled against the snow, collars turned up and walking briskly. Hermione hailed a cab and ushered Hugo and Rose into it, before getting in herself. Ron squeezed in last and shut the door. Hermione gave the address and the driver pulled off, through the snowy streets to the Granger’s house.

* * *

Despite Ron’s insistence that Harry and Ginny were always late, and the fact that Ron and Hermione had been entirely on time, when they rang the doorbell of the Granger household it opened rather quickly to reveal Harry, holding his daughter and looking relieved.

Hermione greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and then rushed inside, dragging Rose behind her. Ron let go of Hugo’s hand so he could run after them.

‘How on earth did you get here before us?’ Ron asked as he hung his coat up.

‘We’ve been here for half an hour already, got the times wrong,’ Harry said in a low voice. ‘I like Hermione’s parents, but you know- ‘

‘-ever since the James thing- ‘

Harry nodded, ‘Which, I mean, you actually had a big part in, but anyway, at least you’re here now-’

‘Uncle Ron, I can fly!’ Lily interrupted, stretching out her arms towards Ron, who took her from Harry’s arms and spun her around in the foyer.

‘Oh really? Show me then.’ Ron said, setting her down and resting his hands on his hips. He looked at her expectantly. Lily screwed up her face and jumped into the air, Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry.

‘I could do it yesterday! I promise, ask dad!’

‘She did,’ Harry said as they made their way down the hall, ‘I’ll tell you over lunch, it’s a good story, hey Lu?’

‘And I got Pluto!’

‘Do you mean she’s done her first bit of accidental magic?’ Ron asked.

Before Harry could reply, Mr Granger called them over from his spot by the fire in the living room. The Granger’s home was as pristine as ever, cream curtains and carpets accented by red throws and a Persian rug that Albus was currently lying on, a book with shimmering pages held in his hands. The Christmas decorations were tasteful, if not sparse. The most austere piece was the zooming father Christmas above the mantle that Ron and Hermione had gifted them last year.

‘Ron, I hope your well,’ Mr Granger said, shaking his hand, as Ron and Harry drew up to his spot by the fire. Ron returned the greeting, and sat down on the stiff sofa, ushered by Mr Granger. Harry sat down next to his son, helping him to read the few words on the page, Lily plopped down on his lap.

‘Now, Hermione said on the phone that you wanted to know if you could have some dental equipment for your father, I must say it’s one of the more unusual gifts…’ Mr Granger started. Their conversation blended into the crackling sounds of the fire, and carried faintly to the kitchen, where the other half of the party was busy at work.

Hermione, after greeting her father, had entered the kitchen to find her mother and Ginny working on lunch. Ginny stared rather intently at the carrots she was chopping. Her mother was standing over the stove, stirring lazily into a saucepan, she turned when Hermione entered with Hugo and Rose.

‘Hermione! Oh, and my two little turtle doves, look at them,’ her mother cooed and bent over to pinch Rose’s cheeks, ‘They’re just getting so big, what are you feeding them Hermione?’

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but not before her mother continued talking, returning to her post at the stove.

‘Ginny and I were just talking about how fast everything is happening, her eldest already at Hogwarts,’ Mrs Granger laughed, ‘She’s been helping me in the kitchen, before you arrived. Were you stuck in traffic dear?’

Again, Hermione prepared a response, but her mother waved her hands. ‘No matter, it’s barely past one.’ she looked over to Rose and Hugo again, who were awkwardly standing in the kitchen as if waiting to be dismissed. ‘Would you dears like a sweet? Take some to your cousins too,’ she said, reaching up into the cupboard above her head she extracted four white sweets from a glass jar, and handed them to her grandchildren. Rose and Hugo ran off to the living room.

‘Good for their gums,’ Mrs Granger said conspiratorially, looking at Ginny.

Ginny returned Mrs Granger with a tight smile, then turned to Hermione.

‘How has your week been? Harry said you had a tense meeting with some of the Department of Magical Creatures heads?’

‘Merlin, they had drafted a plan to push back the Centaur borders, the fools. So that was a whole debacle, but we sorted it out. Other than that, everything is winding down for Christmas, which is nice.’

Hermione discussed work for a while and she ended up at the kitchen island with Ginny, helping her to chop vegetables, her mother flitted in-between them asking questions or instructing on vegetable chopping.

‘Ron didn’t like your article about the Cannons, by the way,’ Hermione diverted the conversation, as her mother eyed Ginny’s pile of chopped carrots. A small smile played on her lips.

‘Ha! I can’t say I didn’t expect that. Was he crushed?’ Ginny asked, eyes gleaming with mirth.

‘He was in a strop the whole day, “poor management this” and “cheap equipment that”, mumbling under his breath.’

‘Brilliant.’

‘Poor Ron, where is he? I must go say hello. You girls will be fine here? The gravy needs some stirring Hermione.’ Mrs Granger removed her apron as she spoke, and then wafted out of the kitchen. Hermione moved to the stove to tend the gravy.

‘I’m sorry- ‘

‘-It’s fine, your mum’s great, really, we just don’t click. We’ve always known that,’ Ginny said.

Hermione sent her a dubious look and the two of them broke out in laughter. ‘I mean, even before James, I think she found me quite-’ Ginny looked to the ceiling for a moment- ‘Brash. I don’t know.’

Ginny looked down at the pile of carrots she had steadily accumulated, ‘I’ve been chopping carrots for so long I think we have enough to feed the whole extended family.’

‘Pop them in here then,’ Hermione said, bringing out a saucepan onto the hob.

‘We had a very exciting morning yesterday,’ Ginny started, prodding the carrots in the pan.

‘Ginny, is my parents’ house really the place where you want to talk about yours and Harry’s bedroom activities? I mean I don’t want to hear them at the best of times- ‘

‘Get your mind out of the gutter Hermione!’ Ginny laughed and poked her friend with the end of her spoon, ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘Who’s in a gutter?’

‘Look who it is; the disgruntled Cannons supporter.’ Ginny turned around and pointed a wooden spoon at her brother, whose face promptly clouded over at her mention of quidditch.

‘Hello lovely sister, how does it feel to be a traitor?’

‘Merlin Ron, that’s strong language just for quidditch.’

‘You know what strong language for quidditch is? “Copley has proven as effective a captain as a flobberworm in orange robes!”’

Ginny looked back at Hermione, ‘Alright well, that one was a bit childish.’

‘Bloody journalist sisters. And you know what she said about the Harpies, Hermione?’

‘What did she say about the Harpies, Ron?’

Ron flourished his arms and cleared his throat to speak in a lilting voice, ‘The Harpies are boldly carrying on Gwenog Jones’ legacy- ‘

‘-They won the league, Ron!’

‘League shmeague.’

Ginny returned to stirring her carrots, throwing in some cinnamon. She shook her head. ‘Honestly Ron, I’m actually quite honoured that you can quote my own articles back to me. I don’t think Harry ever reads them that closely.’

Ron sighed in defeat, then searched the fridge, soon emerging with two beers in his hand. He approached the hob to inspect what they were cooking, and Ginny had to swat his hand away from the carrots which were now nicely caramelising. Their sweet smell was combining with that of the roast in the oven, and crispy potatoes already cooked.

‘Ron, would you tell my mum that lunch is just about ready?’

‘There’s someone at the do-or.’ A voice said at the same time, Lily, poking her head in from the hall.

Hermione looked at Ron, ‘Start moving to the table still, Ginny would you mind checking the door?’

Ginny nodded and took her daughters hand, leading them out of the kitchen. ‘Did someone knock, Lu?’

‘Uh-huh.’

Lily released Ginny’s hand and rather stretched her arms upwards, asking to be picked up, Ginny sighed but hoisted her daughter up onto her hip anyway, still making her way to the front door. ‘You’re getting a bit too old for carrying love.’

‘Dad doesn’t think so,’ Lily said, matter of fact.

‘Yes, well your dad,’ she ticked her daughter’s tummy, ‘Has a bit of a soft spot for you.’ Ginny grinned as her daughter laughed and buried her face in her neck. She finally reached the door and pulled it open, to reveal a wrinkled, rosy-cheeked man, wearing a lurid green jumper and matching joggers.

* * *

‘Merry Christmas! The Walter’s wish you a happy festive season, and would like to give- ‘

Basil lost control of the tray of mince pies in his hand and all thought fled his mind upon seeing the woman who had answered the door. The pastries fell to the snowy ground with a dull splat, his hand remained in the air, holding a now imaginary pan. His mouth was slightly agape.

‘Good golly!’

The woman made a face, and the little girl she was carrying craned her neck to look down at the sad mush of pasty and fruit on the front step.

‘Um, is there something I can help you with?’

She shifted the girl up on her hip, eyebrows furrowed. Basil tried to form a coherent sentence, though was largely unsuccessful.

‘You look just like- I thought-‘ he stood on his toes in an attempt to look further into the house, which he was so sure he had seen an elderly couple walk into last night, as he had unloaded the last set of boxes into his house. His vision was obscured however as the woman moved with him, and he was met with an arching eyebrow and challenging gaze.

And then, he could no longer deny himself who had just answered the door when a man came up from behind her, a man with messy black hair and glasses. He stood next to her, arm coming around her waist.

‘Alright Gin?’ he said, yet he was not looking at his wife. His wife! He was looking at Basil, in a manner that made him rather uncomfortable.

‘Merlin’s beard,’ Basil whispered, ‘I thought that- how do- ‘

The man frowned. ‘You know who we are?’

‘Do I? You’re the- well she’s- and this is just Hampstead! Harry Potter!’

The couple shared a look, and though he was still rather in a daze at meeting two of the most famous figures in wizarding history, a little voice in the back of his head told him he was being quite rude. It was quite difficult to listen to, however.

It took Basil a while to realise that Harry Potter had asked him a question, and that he was looking at him expectantly. He blinked stupidly and asked him to repeat what he had said.

‘Who are you?’

‘Oh. Well I’m- I’m Basil Walter,’ he turned and pointed to a house across the street, ‘My wife and I have just moved in,’ he finished lamely.

‘Well, it’s nice to meet you Mr Walter, and I’m sorry about your pies.’ Harry Potter withdrew his wand. His wand! From his coat and vanished the mess on the floor. ‘I’m afraid you must excu- ‘

‘Harry! Ginny! Who is it? Don’t leave them on the doorstep, it’s freezing outside! You’ve made enough carrots for an army anyhow!’

Harry Potter closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows. Ginny Potter scratched her face, nose scrunching up. If he had heard correctly, he had just been invited to lunch with the Potter family. With Harry Potter. With ex-Holyhead Harpies chaser Ginny Potter.

He stood still on the doorstep, still trying to process this development. Ginny Potter placed a hand on her husband’s arm and moved them both aside to clear an entrance into the house. She gestured to him to come in. The voice in his head was whispering something about saying thank you or refusing the offer, but he didn’t quite understand it, and so he lifted a foot and placed it reverently over the threshold.

He sidled past the Potters, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes and ventured further down the hall. The walls were decorated with photographs of the couple he had seen yesterday, though some also showed a young girl with big bushy hair. He didn’t know how the Potters knew this couple, though his suspicions were confirmed when he entered the dining room and there sat the bushy haired grown woman. Next to a red-headed man.

‘You must be our new neighbour! I saw you unpacking yesterday, that is quite a memorable jumper. I’m Nolene and this is my husband Lawrence, and my daughter- ‘

‘Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley,’ he supplied for her.

Ron Weasley swore, Hermione Granger told him off.

He hadn’t even looked at who had been talking to him, because for the second time in less than ten minutes he found himself in front of two people he had never thought to even come within ten feet of. And here he was in Hermione Granger’s parent’s house. When he did finally look at the woman called Nolene, he saw her wringing her hands.

‘Well, that’s nice,’ she said. She placed her hands on the head of an empty chair and withdrew it from the table. ‘We’d love to have you- ‘

‘-Basil- ‘

‘-Basil. Do you like roast?’

‘Mum…’

As if in a trance he made his way over to the table to sit down, but all at once, the little whisper that had been in the back of his head since Ginny Potter had opened the door to this once very normal house, was no longer a whisper and was ringing alarm bells, telling him that he really should not be sitting down. He hovered above the seat, and suddenly blurted out an apology.

‘I’m so sorry, I’ve been incredibly rude, I only wanted to drop off some mince pies, but they fell on the floor and this is awkward, and I’ve been rather rude- ‘

‘-Nonsense, there’s nothing wrong with being a little starstruck,’ Mrs Granger laughed, but looking at the other occupants of the table, he felt they did not completely feel the same. Hermione Granger was giving him a sympathetic look, Ron Weasley seemed very interested in his lap.

‘No, I’ll go, you enjoy your dinner- ‘

‘Mr Walter, it really wouldn’t be right for us to send you home now. Have lunch with us, please.’

It was Harry Potter, walking past him from the hall and resuming his seat at the table. Basil felt himself in a bit of a quandary, though the assured look that Harry Potter gave him had him eventually sitting down. He shifted his chair awkwardly further in, and then tried to find a neutral space to place his gaze. He settled on the large oil painting on the wall across from him. A charming English cottage.

‘Well, let’s make a toast, to Christmas and to family and friends old and new.’ Ron Weasley held up his glass and everyone else followed suit, even the children with their plastic cups of juice. Basil felt his cheeks heat up, first at the mention of himself as a new friend- and it must be him to whom Ron Weasley was referring, surely- and then at the burn of the firewhiskey that he had been supplied with.

‘So, Basil, what has landed you in Hampstead?’ Ron Weasley started their conversation, just before he stuffed a piece of pork into his mouth.

It turned out the Weasley and Potter families were strangely normal. Their kids reminded him of his own kids, though now well past Hogwarts age. They ate normally, they got frustrated with malfunctioning floo systems and lost owl letters. In truth, Basil was only reminded about who they were when some anecdote from their childhood would spring up, then they would talk in another language it seemed, shouting and exclaiming nonsense that meant utterly nothing to Basil.

‘Why do you always have to mention Bulstrode’s cat? You two are such prats!’

‘Oh please, you couldn’t boil an egg without Hermione.’

‘Well maybe next time you can spy on me with a map all day Harry James Potter.’

The afternoon turned out rather well considering how it had started off, though he didn’t know what he was going to tell his wife when he got home.

‘ _Hi honey, I had lunch with Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley today. Hermione Grangers parent’s house is very tastefully decorated I must say.’_

She’d probably laugh at him and tell him that he can come up with a better excuse for sneaking off to the pub for a pint.

When everyone’s plates were almost cleared, and it was looking as if he should start making his excuses to get home, Ron Weasley rounded on Harry Potter.

‘Wait a minute, we’ve almost reached the end of lunch and you still haven’t told us about what Lily did yesterday.’

‘Oh, is this what you wanted to tell me about, Ginny?’

Harry Potter glanced for a moment towards Basil, but he shrugged and turned back to his friend.

‘Well, Lily performed her first bit of accidental magic- ‘Hermione Granger gasped, Basil found himself gasping with her. He still remembered the first magic that his three kids had done. He felt more so than ever that he was an intruder in this close group of friends.

‘That is lovely news, Mr Potter, and I’m sure you don’t want some stranger blabbering about it. I wouldn’t! I mean I won’t! But I think I’ll best be on my leave.’

‘It’s alright Mr Walter, you’ve heard the most of it already, and I don’t think you will go blabbering, as you say, about it anyway.’ Harry Potter smiled at him, and Basil swallowed. He took another sip of his firewhiskey and listened to Harry Potter talk about his daughter’s accomplishment. A yew tree and floating down from tall heights. His children hadn’t had such graceful stories. He smiled to himself at the memory of his Gregory breaking every bulb in an electrical shop, upset at the denial for a lollipop.

‘So, she thinks she can fly now, hey Lu,’ Harry Potter scuffed his daughter’s hair, who protested at the remark.

‘I can fly!’

‘We’ll have to work on that.’ Harry Potter grimaced, though one couldn’t deny the grin underneath it, the amusement at Lily’s fervour.

‘Well, that is very exciting news and I think we can celebrate it with some toffee pudding, does that sound nice?’

The children all chorused their agreement, eagerly picking up spoons too large for their hands that were already laid out on the table. Now Basil was planning on making his exit, and so he rose from his chair at the same time as Mrs Granger, who was collecting dishes from the table.

‘Hugo, will you pass me the vegetable dish?’

Basil watched as the boy stretched his arm to pick up the heavy crockery, still laden with some leftover carrots, and lifted it with some difficulty. His mother leaned forward to tell him to use two hands, but it was too late. The boy lost his control of the dish, and so, much like the mince pies had fallen on the Granger’s front step a few hours previous, the crockery came crashing onto the table. Not just the table, but on top of the dish that had been holding the Yorkshire puddings.

They connected at the most inopportune angle, and shards of glass were sent flying across the table. Basil felt one leave a tiny cut on his arm, he saw the rest of the table’s occupants reach to places on their body where glass had met. Hugo’s eyes were big and glassy, staring at the demolished dishes, clearly on the verge of tears.

Everyone was shocked silent for a moment, but then, quickly set off as Hugo opened his mouth and- just before succumbing to tears- he said one word:

‘Bollocks.’

This word was obviously a controversial one in the Weasley-Granger-Potter community, for more than one reason, because then a series of events that Basil did not completely understand happened before him.

‘Ron!’

‘Hugo!’

‘What?’

‘It’s James again!’

‘Weasleys!’

Mrs Granger looked mortified, and her eyes were moving rapidly between the two couples and Hugo. Hugo was gasping for air and shouting his apologies out into the dining room, shards of glass glinted in his hair and over his clothes.

Harry and Ginny Potter seemed oddly pleased. They were looking at each other with strange expressions, their daughter was giggling in her seat and chanting in a singsong voice.

‘-Hugo said a bad word, Hugo said a bad word- ‘

Albus and Rose were picking pieces of glass off each other, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

‘Hugo love, it’s alright we’ll repair the dish see?’ Hermione Granger waved her wand and the crockery righted itself, though not without pieces of glass once again flying through the room. The table was righted to its original condition and Hugo ceased his crying, but continued to look at the table morosely, sniffing loudly.

‘Hugo, do you understand what you did wrong?’

‘Hugo said a bad word!’

‘Lily!’ Harry Potter said, though he was trying to stifle a grin. His daughter grinned openly back at him. Fathers and daughters, Basil thought. They could get away with anything.

‘But- but dad- dad says it all the time!’ Hugo moaned, wiping his eyes.

‘You see! Do you see! It wasn’t me it was you.’ Ginny Potter pointed at her brother who looked severely affronted.

‘What on earth are you going on about?’

‘James! New Year’s 2007! He opens the door for Mr and Mrs Granger and compliments Mrs Granger on her dress, he says she looks like a b- ‘

Mrs Granger made a squeak of indignation. Ginny Potter sat abruptly back in her seat.

‘You know what he said! You know what happened,’ she grumbled, and crossed her arms over her chest. Harry sent an apologetic look Ron’s way.

‘Toffee pudding! I’ll go get it!’ Mrs Granger said in a falsely high voice, already whizzing away to the kitchen.

Ron Weasley was leaning over in his chair so he could look at Ginny Potter, he was mouthing something to her. She merely sat with raised eyebrows, taking it all in, but her husband behind her seemed to experience a myriad of emotions at the hand of his brother in law’s words.

Still not understanding what exactly had just happened, Basil took the opportunity to excuse himself from the rest of the lunch, while the other occupants of the table sat in an awkward silence. He shook Mr Grangers hand, tried to cut in with a farewell to the two arguing couples, and shook Rose off his leg, who had taken a liking to his luminescent joggers and stories about his daughter, who works at Madam Malkins.

After stopping by the kitchen to say goodbye to a shaken Mrs Granger he made his way down the hall, a passage that seemed to be a portal to another dimension, where time had passed incredibly quickly. Long shadows were cast through the front windows, and the snow was building up into a flurry again. Before he was free of the house however, he heard footsteps behind him.

‘It was nice meeting you, Mr Walter,’ Harry Potter said, drawing up to him in the hallway. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

‘I’d like to say that this doesn’t happen at every family dinner, but, well. There’s always something. Just count yourself lucky that you weren’t at the Burrow, that’s another level.’ He chuckled.

‘I think I understand all too well, Mr Potter. Besides, kids grow out of that sort of thing. They all go through that phase.’

‘That’s what I think too.’ He leaned in closer to Basil. ‘Personally, I think James got it off my godson, but I would never throw him under the bus like that.’

Basil chuckled, then turned the doorknob, ‘It was a very pleasant lunch, Mr Potter. Have a good Christmas.’

And with that he stepped out onto the small pathway to the road. The cold air cooled his cheeks, still warm from whiskey. He blew out a breath, and a fine mist formed before him. He felt it strange that between one road and a couple hundred steps there was his new home and a lunch that he would never forget. He almost wanted to get on the tube and ride for a while just to convince himself that the two places could be more separated, like coming home from a beach holiday, where the journey home ends the trip like the final chapter of a satisfying book.

Instead, he was soon upon his garden path, walking onto the front step, kicking his shoes against the wall to rid them of sleet. He found his wife in the living room, sitting on the floor with a puzzle splayed before her, she turned around at the sound of him, and looked him up and down.

‘Basil! Where on earth have you been?'


	3. Three French Hens

Ginny apparated a few metres down from the Burrow early on Monday morning, Albus clasped her hand and Lily settled on her hip. She took a deep breath and started her ascent towards the house. She wanted enjoy the crisp morning air and stretch her legs before being sequestered in the Burrow’s kitchen with her mum and Fleur for the whole day.

It was the official Christmas Baking Day, when the Burrow would be filled with the smell of gingerbread and biscuits, Christmas puddings coated in marzipan and mince pies full of spiced fruit. Ginny had participated in the activity since as long as she could remember, and though she admitted she was no baking goddess, she could make a rather good gingerbread man.

It used to just be her and her mum, waking up early and starting on all the dough, still in pyjamas and barefoot on the cold floor. Those days used to fly by, with every meal consisting of stolen pieces of dough and biscuits tasted right out of the oven, still soft, ‘just to test.’ They had accumulated many partners over the years, however.

‘-And Aunty Fleur?’ Lily asked, listing off all the relations that could possibly be at the Burrow this morning.

‘Yes, she always is. She makes those meringue-type things you said you liked last year.’

‘Camerons!’

‘Macarons, Lu.’

‘Ma-ca-rons. And then- ‘

Her daughter paused midsentence as a farmer crossed the road in front of them, a collie dog weaved in and out of the legs of a small herd of cows that crossed with him. Lily’s eyes were big as she watched, the famer waved at them and Ginny waved back with her daughter.

As the last cow stumbled up the embankment on the side of the road, Lily remembered her endeavour and asked her mother again. ‘Will Aunty Audrey be there?’

‘No, she’s working.’

Albus looked up at Ginny. ‘So, no Molly?’

‘No Molly, sorry Al, but Louis will be there. And Fred and Roxanne, Angelina should be there too.’

Albus made a face. ‘Roxanne’s a baby.’

Ginny laughed, ‘Do you know, Albus that you were once four years old too and James said the exact same thing?’

Her son gave her a withering look, on such a young face it could only be counted as adorable. She squeezed his hand as they carried along in the snow.

‘Aunty Her-mi-o-ne?’ Lily sounded out carefully. She had been put under pressure by Ron to say Hermione’s name correctly as soon as her calls for her aunt had started to sound very similar to what one Bulgarian international quidditch star used to call her. Ron had made sure to put a stop to that.

‘Working. And Hugo and Rose are still at the Grangers- ‘Ginny was cut off as Lily laughed into her shoulder, probably recalling Friday afternoon’s incident. ‘-So you’ll have to do double time in the kitchen.’ She teased. She looked down at Albus who was still clasping her hand and looking out into the countryside, he hummed a tune to himself. She suspected he was not exactly in the baking mood today.

It had caused a small flutter in her stomach, when her children had first baked with her. Especially Lily with her Weasley red hair, standing on stepping stools like she once had. Her mother had teared up at the sight.

It had all started with Teddy though.

He had thoroughly enjoyed being in the kitchen with Ginny, her mum, and Fleur. He used to change his hair to a deep Christmas tree green, give himself rosy cheeks and work away cutting shapes out of dough. When he decorated Father Christmas shaped biscuits, he would grow long flowing white hair, an equally long beard and puff out his chest. He would hold up the finished biscuit to his face.

_‘Now I’m like Harry! My face is on sweets!’_

He had been a very entertaining helper, albeit one who ate half the icing, but a helper nonetheless. Harry had joined them then, a few times, to be with Teddy. Ginny had found it very difficult to bake with Harry, because he would focus so hard on measuring out the flour properly or scrunch his eyebrows as he assessed the cake in the oven. He would get flour on his nose, white streaks in his hair, he would whisk Teddy around and hand him coins- like a secret- to be placed in the Christmas pudding.

_‘Ginny!’ her mum admonished._

_‘What?’_

_‘This is a family kitchen!’_

_‘I was just helping Harry get the flour off his nose.’_

Ginny smiled to herself and bit her lip. She missed baking with Harry, perhaps she could convince him when he got home tonight…

The Burrow came into sight soon enough, capped with snow on the eaves and tell-tale footprints of her mum’s path to the hen house. Ginny’s boots crunched over the newly fallen snow, not yet turned into a slush by the light of day. A robin hopped out onto the road and Albus tracked it with his eyes, Lily was too busy still listing off family members.

James would have been running about all over the place. He had attempted to join Baking Day once before, but after cutting out a few biscuits he had proclaimed that he was bored and scampered off to play, his cousin Fred following behind him.

At the boundary of the Burrow they could clearly see the kitchen door wide open, her mum must have seen them, because she was standing in the doorway, apron already on and hands on her hips.

‘Granny!’ Lily shouted.

Ginny put her daughter down and she ran forwards to her Gran, though not too fast, as her hands were held close to her chest, protecting Pluto. Ginny had had no choice but to bring the baby owl with her. It needed hourly feeding and besides that, she would’ve endured quite the tantrum if it had been left behind.

Rays of sun reflected off the snow and she had to cover her eyes as she got closer to the Burrow. She could hear her daughter talking to mum.

‘His name’s Pluto and I got him out of a tree, when dad took us to look for Christmas trees! He can make me fly!’

‘Oh, isn’t he precious Lily.’

‘He’s going to help us bake,’ her daughter said.

Ginny arrived at the front door in time to see her mum’s momentary hesitation at having an animal flittering about their baking, but she didn’t say anything and merely told Lily to go and put her coat in the living room.

‘Hello mum,’ Ginny said, giving her a hug.

‘Hello dear, you’re spot on time, Fleur only just arrived.’

‘Quite a full house today,’ Ginny said, unwrapping a scarf from around her neck. The kitchen was warm, and ingredients were laid out neatly on the table in an assortment of glass jars. Fleur was unpacking a bag of even more flours and spices. She looked up at Ginny.

She greeted Ginny with a smile. Fleur walked to Ginny and gave her a kiss on each cheek. She bent down to greet Albus.

‘You are looking more like your father every day, very handsome,’ she said, ‘Are you going to help me make my macarons today?’

Albus shrugged, ‘Maybe. I want to show Louis my new book,’ he said, holding up the small novel in his hand for explanation.

Fleur winked at him. ‘I understand. Louis is in the living room if you want to find him now.’

‘I’ll help you make macarons Aunty Fleur!’ Lily said, bouncing up to the women, almost tripping over the adult-sized apron that she had wrapped around herself.

‘They will be very good macarons then,’ Fleur said decisively, nodding her head towards Lily.

‘Lu, I brought you an apron that will fit properly, come here- ‘Ginny started to unwind her daughter from the apron that she had rather impressively wrapped herself in. Just as she had tied the apron around her own waist, and helped Lily into her own dainty one, Angelina appeared at the door, stepping in with a wave and a long exhale.

‘It’s a bit balmy outside I think,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry if we’re late, but someone- ‘she placed a hand on Roxanne’s head, ‘Had a crisis finding her beanie.’

Roxanne beamed at them, not very embarrassed about that fact. Lily rushed over to start telling Roxanne and Fred about Pluto.

‘We are never going to hear the end of this damn owl,’ Ginny muttered to Fleur, who laughed.  
Mrs Weasley closed the door behind Angelina, clapped her hands together and called everyone to attention in the kitchen, Albus and Louis emerged from the living room to join their cousins.

‘We need at least five hundred spice biscuits, three batches of gingerbread men, two Christmas puddings, one hundred mince pies and Fleur- ‘

‘- I think sixty macarons, two buches de noel-‘

‘And then ice them all up, wrap some up for gifts, and get them in the pantry for Christmas. Who do we have helping us?’

‘Me!’ Lily raised her hand quickly.

‘Me too!’ Roxanne said.

Fred echoed their agreement, to Ginny’s surprise, but Albus and Louis both said that they’d rather stay in the living room but might join later.

‘Then let’s get started! I’ll get on the biscuits, Ginny dear, what are you up for?’

‘Can we do the gingerbread men, mummy?’

‘Yes. Lu and I will do gingerbread men.’

I’ll get on the Christmas puddings,’ Angelina said.

‘And I will start with the buche de noel.’

The Burrow’s kitchen was just large enough to give each woman a space to work in, and soon the kitchen was alive with activity. Measuring cups were tossed over heads, handfuls of sugar were occasionally thrown on the floor, and close arguments over who got to use the oven first were skirted around. The process was made a lot easier with magic, that at least kept things clean and righted any messes made, but that didn’t mean the day could not fall to mishaps now and then.

‘Um, why is there a bald little bird in the cutlery drawer?’ Angelina asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Pluto! How did you get there?’ Lily ran over to caress the bird in her arms. Fred was failing miserably at trying to hide his snorts of laughter.

‘Fred! Pluto is not here to be a part of your pranks,’ Lily admonished.

‘Who said I did anything?’

Mrs Weasley interfered, ‘If you’re going to be silly, then you’ll have to go to the living room. Lily, maybe you should leave Pluto there, and Albus can look after him.’

Lily looked unsure but left the kitchen to do so, sticking her tongue out at Fred along the way.

‘She’s just like you, Ginny, with that pygmy puff you had…’ Molly shook her head. She wiped her brow and went in for another round of violent rolling, flattening the spiced dough on the counter.

‘Rest in Peace Arnold,’ Angelina said dramatically, ‘I believe it was death by snogging?’ she looked at Ginny out of the corner of her eye.

‘You kissed your little pet?’ Fleur asked dubiously.

‘No,’ Ginny gasped, her mother was looking at her with a raised eyebrow, ‘I wouldn’t put it like that, Angelina, I’d just say that I didn’t realise Arnold was in my jacket, and I lay down on it, and it was very traumatising.’

Angelina hummed knowingly and turned back to her mixture, adding in a generous dash of brandy. ‘Very traumatising to snog Harry Potter, I agree. I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Ha-ha,’ Ginny said deadpan, but Molly and Fleur were laughing. ‘I’d rather snog a pygmy puff than George.’

‘I’m glad to hear that Ginny, he is your brother,’ her mum said.

Ginny laughed along with them, though she scrunched up her nose at the thought.

The kitchen withheld a steady amount of banter and laughter and gossip throughout the morning. When the clock struck one and Louis appeared at the door with big eyes, requesting if there was any chance of lunch, they had a short break of sandwiches in the living room.

Fleur was flipping through a set of photos that she had recently developed and showing them to Molly. Ginny peered over her mum’s shoulder to look at the photos too, perfectly timed snapshots of Bill and Fleur’s beautiful children.

‘Look at you with Dominique and Victoire! Just lovely, Victoire looks so grown up…’ Molly said as she lifted the photo of the three women into her hand. Victoire was no doubt a model of her mother. Tall, willowy and silver haired, though with an attractive smattering of freckles along her nose. Dominique seemed to be going the same way, but Ginny secretly though she had more Weasley in her, short and petite like herself and hair with a distinct wave to it.

‘They’re lovely photos you should make them into Christmas cards,’ Ginny said, leaning back and ridding her hands of breadcrumbs.

‘Christmas cards!’ Her mother’s eyes lit up. ‘We always say that we’re going to do a big family one, but we never do.’

‘Because there’s no lens wide enough to get us all in mum, unless we’re all tiny specs-‘ Ginny indicated with her index finger and thumb, a small gap between them- ‘Then we might as well put Joe Soap in and call it a day. It’d be a lot easier than organising our lot.’

‘I would know if a tiny spec was Joe Soap or one of your brothers! Or Harry!’ Her mother said, indignant at the idea of an outsider invading their non-existent Christmas card photo.

Ginny looked at her mother sceptically, then stood up clapped her hands together. ‘Alright you lot, who’s ready for round two?’

Surprisingly no-one answered her. Lily and Roxanne were cooing over Pluto and Albus and Louis were in the middle of a chess game, which Fred seemed to be eagerly betting on. Ginny looked back at her mother and sister’s-in-law curiously and they shrugged at her.

‘Best to leave them to it,’ Angelina said, grabbing plates from the table and walking into the kitchen. Ginny followed with her mum and Fleur.

‘We will see you at Kings Cross on Friday, yes?’ Fleur asked Ginny as she started on her macarons.

‘Oh gosh, yes I suppose you will. I didn’t realise it was this week already. I can’t wait to talk to James about Hogwarts, course he doesn’t send letters.’

‘I never got letters from any of you children, unless it was asking for something or the other,’ her mum said, shaking her head.

‘Teddy sends letters almost every week.’

‘Yes, well, Teddy’s a darling- ‘

‘-And James isn’t?’ Ginny smirked at her mother.

‘No, they’re just darling in different ways.’

‘He’s been weird though, lately. He still writes but I feel like he’s leaving parts out, big parts that he wants to tell us but won’t.’

Fleur had her back turned to Ginny as she spoke, and so Ginny didn’t see the small smile that graced her sister-in-law’s face. ‘Maybe he would prefer to tell you in person?’

Ginny hummed in agreement. ‘Well, yes we’ll be at Kings Cross on Friday. We could make a day of it and have you for lunch if you’d like?’

Fleur struggled to suppress a grin, but Angelina caught her eye and sent her a quizzical look. Fleur shook her head at her Angelina. ‘That sounds very nice.’

Their baking continued well into the afternoon, interspersed with cups of tea and the occasional interruption from the children. Around three o’clock they were all bundled up and sent outside to play in the snow, watched through the windows by the witches inside.

Ginny had just packed away her last tray of gingerbread biscuits when the clock struck half past five. Fleur had been finished for a while, and sat at the kitchen table, flicking through a magazine and talking about what she was going to buy her maman for Christmas. Angelina was decorating the last Christmas pudding and her mother was loading the last tray of mince pies into the oven.

The kitchen door handle turned, and her father stepped in, holding an exhausted looking Roxanne.

‘Hello all. Smells great in here,’ he said, sniffing loudly. Angelina relieved him of Roxanne, and he took off his coat, rubbing his hands from the cold.

‘Manage to get it all done?’

‘Just about. I suppose I should get started on some dinner,’ Molly said, ‘Would you like to stay?’

‘No thanks mum, I should get this one home I think,’ Angelina said, bouncing Roxanne on her hip. She moved about the room saying her goodbyes and gathering any paraphernalia left by Fred and Roxanne, then she left out the kitchen door to collect Fred and winked out of sight at the far end of the Burrow.

‘Louis and I will stay; I’ll tell Bill to stop by too.’ Fleur flicked her wand and sent off a silvery patronus. Ginny had already been into the living room to gather Pluto and Albus’ book and was shrugging on her jacket when she spoke.

‘I’ll be off, mum. Say hello to Bill for me.’ After many kisses and hugs she left the warmth of the kitchen to step into the evening chill. Lily and Albus were still outside with Louis, and they seemed to be trying to build an igloo. She managed to coax her two away from the project and send Louis inside with the promise of hot cocoa, which she hoped her mum could provide.

She took the hands of her two children and trundled with them through the snow. Lily told her all about her snow day and Albus cut in every few moments with an addition or correction. Ginny turned around when she reached the end of the Burrow, to look at it lit up charmingly against the inky black sky. She gripped Lily and Albus’ hands tighter and then turned on the spot, back to Ashden Run.

‘Hello!’ Ginny shouted out as she opened the front door not a moment later. Lily and Albus ran inside, leaving muddy track marks on the floor, and she shook her head at them.

‘Hello.’ She looked up and Harry was standing at the end of the hall a smile on his face.

‘Hello, you.’ She said. She closed the door behind her and kicked off her shoes. She walked up to him and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss eagerly, bringing a hand to her cheek.

‘Hm, what’s up?’ She said, breaking away from him.

‘Nothing, I’m just happy to see you.’

She smiled and kissed him again, just a peck. ‘You too.’

‘I made dinner.’

‘Now that makes me extremely happy.’

They ate together in the kitchen, the four of them, exchanging stories about their day. Their laughter ran throughout the house and for a moment Ginny felt extremely lucky. While Albus told them about the latest developments in his book, Harry reached for her hand on the table and looked at her like he felt the exact same way.

Despite protests that they weren’t tired at all, Lily and Albus were asleep within seconds of being tucked in and the couple returned to the kitchen to clear up.

‘Before we clear everything,’ Ginny said, ‘I was wondering if you’re not too tired to stay up a bit later?’

Harry leaned against the counter and looked at her, his head tilted to the side questioningly. His lips twitched into a lopsided grin.

‘Well it depends what you have in mind.’

She approached him slowly and wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘Biscuits.’

The lopsided grin was replaced with a furrowing of his eyebrows. ‘What?’

‘I want to bake with you, Harry,’ she said huskily. He laughed and brought a hand to the small of her back.

‘Really? That’s what does it for you?’

‘Don’t make fun of me, you can’t see yourself when you bake; you’re irresistible.’

He nodded at her. ‘Well I know I’m irresistible most of the time.’

‘Alright, Mr Irresistible, which biscuits shall we make?’ she said, moving away from him to tie up her hair. She disappeared into the pantry.

‘Uh, shortbread?’

‘Shortbread isn’t a biscuit!’ she shouted back at him.

‘It’s certainly not a bread, though is it?’

‘Yes but- ‘

‘Hey. I’m Mr Irresistible, surely we can make concessions for a celebrity?’

She returned from the pantry laden with jars and containers of baking aids, he took them from her and laid them out on the counter. They stood at the island looking at the array, under the flickering kitchen light. An owl hooted outside, accompanied by crickets.

Ginny turned and looked at Harry.

‘Alright then, shortbread it is. And Harry- ‘she dipped a finger into the flour jar and brushed it on his lips- ‘You have something on your face,’ she whispered, and then leaned in to kiss him hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you find the three French hens?👀 Let me know what you think, a review would make my day!


	4. Four Calling Birds

‘Okay, so we’re not going to spring it on them here, you’re going to sit down and tell Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny tonight, and-' Victoire took a deep breath ‘-I’m going to tell my dad.’

‘Honestly Vic, you’re stressing for no reason.’

Victoire threw a withering look Teddy’s way and looked out the window nervously. The train was steadily slowing down, approaching Kings Cross station, and she had been running through a speech for her dad since about the halfway mark of the journey. Teddy leaned forward in the seat opposite to her and squeezed her hand.

She smiled at him, appreciating the gesture. He leaned further forward and captured her lips with his. Victoire lost herself in the sensation for a moment, before she slapped him lightly on the arm and pulled away.

‘They’ll see us Ted! I certainly don’t want our picture plastered in the Prophet tomorrow, describing a duel breaking out on platform nine and three-quarters.’

Teddy sat back in his seat, a grin on his face. ‘It would be such a pretty picture though.’

Victoire rolled her eyes, but she could not stop a twitch of her lips in response to his beaming smile. The train started to slow and rolled through the shadows of the station, until finally it came to a lurching halt. Victoire took one deep breath and stood up. Before she could open the carriage door, someone from the outside slung it open.

‘Trains stopped! Gross. Were you two snogging in here the whole time?’

‘James,’ Teddy said warningly, reaching for his trunk after having pulled down Victoire’s. ‘Remember, a whole month of pocket money for you if you keep your mouth shut.’

‘I remember, I remember.’ James said, waving Teddy off. He looked at Victoire with glee. ‘The Christmas edition of decoy detonators is mine.’

Dominique appeared behind James, lugging her trunk and looking thoroughly unimpressed with James, who was blocking the entire hallway.

‘I don’t know why you guys are so worried anyway. Just get it done with,’ She said, shoving James into Teddy and Victoire’s carriage, an audible collective groan of thanks echoed across the carriageway.

‘Dom, you know how dad is,’ Victoire said. The four of them made their way off the train and onto the station. It was fairly easy to spot their parents, a natural ring road formed around them in the crowd, wizards and witches skirting around them. Victoire saw her dad demonstrating something to Uncle Harry, who seemed to be listening with intense concentration, holding Lily in his arms. Her mum and Aunt Ginny were whispering close together. Her heart jumped in her throat. What if her mum was telling Aunt Ginny right now?

‘Its fine,’ a voice whispered in her ear. Then she saw Teddy stride past her, up to her dad and his godfather, received with a tight embrace from the latter and greeted with a strong handshake from the former. She saw Teddy scuff Albus’ hair and take him in a great big hug.

‘Victoire! Mon bébé, je suis si contente de te revoir ! Her mum exclaimed as she embraced her, Victoire replied in kind and then greeted Aunt Ginny who smiled at her fondly and asked her how school was going. Her father and Uncle Harry also greeted her with a hug. Louis protested at first when Victoire placed two kisses on his cheeks, but he smiled at her all the same, saying he was glad she was home.

‘Right, let’s get going then,’ Uncle Harry said, when the many greetings were finished. The family moved from the station, through the wall and onto the muggle platform of Kings Cross. Victoire grew increasingly worried as they continued as one group to the apparition point tucked away from sight at the far end of the station. She leaned over to her mum.

‘Where are we going? We usually use the floos at the other end?’

Her mum smiled down at her. ‘Harry and Ginny are having us for lunch, Victoire.’

Her stomach did a somersault. ‘Mum! Why didn’t you tell me this?’

Her mother stopped on the spot, leaving the two of them separated from the group. She looked at Victoire curiously. ‘I didn’t think it was very important. I thought you would be happy, to spend more time with Teddy- ‘

‘-Merlin. But nobody knows mum! We had a plan, to tell everyone separately tonight! Everyone will know something is going on!’

‘Victoire, you are being silly. Everyone will be so happy for you two! And if it is not the right time, wait until after lunch.’

‘Uncle Harry is head of the bloody DMLE!’

‘Victoire!’ Her mum admonished. She gripped her daughter’s arms on either side and looked meaningfully into her eyes. ‘There is no reason to be in distress. Even if your Uncle Harry notices something you know he would never make a scene, he values privacy more than anyone! Now calm down and come to lunch. Just be normal _ma choupette_. And watch your language.’

Victoire nodded her head slowly and took a deep breath. She smoothed over her hair and looked at her mum. ‘You’re right. Teddy says I always overthink things. It’ll be fine.’

Her mum slowly released her hands from her sides and looked at her cautiously, as if afraid that she would break out into a panic again. Fleur took her daughters hand and led them across the bustling station to the floo point. All the Potters were gone, but Victoire’s dad and sister and brother remained.

‘Everything alright?’

‘Perfect,’ her mother said with a smile.

Victoire smiled at her dad too, and he slung an arm over her shoulders. ‘It’s so nice to have my girls home again,’ he said.

Victoire brought an arm around her dad and hugged his side. However, she could not help the small crinkle in her brow that formed as the three of them stepped into the apparition point; the ill feeling that this lunch was going to be an eventful one.

* * *

Teddy drank in the sight of home, appearing at the front of Ashden Run with his family. He picked up his trunk and made his was inside with everyone else, jostling and brushing off snow in the foyer. Coats were hung up on the rack, wellingtons kicked off and the family radiated into the house, a familiar hum filling the hallways.

‘I’m going to get Pluto to show you,’ Lily told Teddy, darting up the stairs. Shaking his head, Teddy caught the tail end of a conversation James was having with his dad, about the last quidditch match of the term.

‘-Teddy whacked the bludger back at Welks, caught him completely off guard, and Hufflepuff got the snitch!’ James wailed.

‘Nice one, Ted,’ Harry said, smiling at him. Teddy performed a mock bow.

The three of them walked down the hall and into the kitchen, where delicious smells were already emanating. Harry flicked his wand at the kettle and set it to boil, Teddy opened the cabinet to extract mugs. James went rummaging in the pantry.

‘Good celebration after?’ Harry asked, crossing his arms and leaning on the counter.

Teddy’s eyes bulged, he hit his head on the open cabinet door and cursed. Did his godfather somehow already know? He knew Harry was good but how the bloody hell would he know what he was getting up to in Hogwarts with Vic? Teddy looked cautiously back at his Godfather, who was looking at him with creased eyebrows, yet a hint of amusement on his face.

No. He doesn’t know. He’s just asking.

‘Yeah, it was brilliant. We’ve still got Ravenclaw to get through though.’

‘I bet Vic and Dom were upset with you too.’

Teddy smiled to himself, turning away from Harry. ‘They got over it.’ Or at least, he knew for sure that one of them did.

‘Who got over what?’ Ginny said entering the kitchen. ‘Merlin Ted, are you actually that tall or are you putting it on? You’ll be taller than Harry soon.’ She made her way to Harry and settled closely next to him; his arm came around her waist.

‘He’s putting it on! He is I saw him, whenever he’s around- ‘James came pelting from the pantry, Teddy promptly caught him at the shoulder and scuffed his hair. They began to scrimmage in the middle of the kitchen floor and Teddy ended with James in a headlock. It wasn’t really a fair fight, but James was always eager to brawl with Teddy. He eventually bit down on Teddy’s arm, causing him to yelp and release him. Teddy sent James a warning look and mouthed ‘A whole month of pocket money.’

‘He’s just not that tall, is all.’ James said, brushing hair out of his eyes and breathing hard.

‘James is just jealous because even I’m almost taller than him.’ Albus sauntered into the room, stopping next to his brother and measuring their height. He still had a way to go to reach James.

‘Rubbish, I’ll always be taller than you,’ James said, straightening up and lifting his head high into the air. Albus gave him a sceptical look, and the two of them began brawling in much the same way James and Teddy had just engaged. Eventually Teddy intervened, pulling the two boys apart, and throwing his arms over their shoulders.

‘You two are going to be a nightmare at Hogwarts without me around,’ he said. They both scoffed and made to claw at each other again, but the familiar click of the front door opening prevented them.

‘Anyone home?’ Bill bellowed from the hall.

‘In the kitchen!’ Ginny replied, then she turned and pulled wine glasses out of the cabinet behind her.

‘Don’t bother with tea, Ted, we’ll get straight to the good stuff.’

‘And what if I wanted tea?’ Harry challenged.

‘Well, that would be very boring, but I suppose I could allow it,’ Ginny replied, already pouring four glasses full of generous helpings of red wine.

Teddy did not remain in the kitchen for very long after being dismissed, he made for the hall, where Bill and Fleur were already walking down. Fleur sent him a smile as he passed, then Dom sent him a withering look before he finally reached the back of their pack, where he was fairly certain Victoire was halfway to losing her head.

‘Vic, listen- ‘

‘You come with me, Teddy Lupin.’ Victoire dragged him aside, walking towards the staircase, but she went past it and down the hall, then abruptly yanked open the bathroom door next to Harry’s study and pushed him inside.

Teddy raised his hands. ‘Vic, I know you fancy me, but can’t you control yourself in my own Godparents house?’

Victoire shook her head at him and began pacing the bathroom floor, hands on her hips.

‘This isn’t good. This is really not good. We didn’t count on this.’

Teddy sat on the closed Toilet seat and looked at her in amusement, she threw a glance his way and narrowed her eyes at him.

‘Don’t act like you’re so okay with this!’

‘But I am! They’re all going to be happy for us, I don’t get why you’re going so barmy!’

‘Teddy!’ Victoire said, exasperated. She slid down the wall and onto the floor, stretching her legs out before her. ‘I’ve never had a serious boyfriend before, and I know my dad still thinks of me like a little girl. I just- ‘she looked at him with big eyes ‘-I kind of really like you, so it would make me upset if he didn’t like you.’

Teddy frowned at her but moved off the toilet seat to sit next to her on the floor. ‘Vic, your dad does like me.’

‘But will he like you when he knows we’re snogging?’

‘Well we certainly aren’t obligated to tell him we’re snogging.’

She laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘I’m being so weird. We should just tell them now.’

‘You’re being fine. Listen,’ Teddy placed a hand on her thigh, ‘Why don’t we just be normal, like if we were at Hogwarts in front of our friends or even teachers? If anyone questions us, we tell them, if not, wait until tonight when you get home.’

Victoire tilted her head to look up at him. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

She reached further and connected her lips with his. His hand came up the brush against her jaw and at that exact moment the door flew open.

‘Teddy! Stop hiding in the bathroom- ‘

The couple broke apart rapidly to face a wide-eyed Lily Potter, clutching a bald little bird to her chest.

‘Lily! What have your mum and dad always said about closed doors?’ Teddy said, though rather harshly. The young girl floundered for a moment before croaking out, on the verge of tears.

‘I-I’m sorry. I just wanted you to- to see Pluto!’ she trembled. Teddy quickly lunged forward over Vic, tugged Lily into the room and closed the door again. He hugged her and smoothed over her hair.

‘I didn’t mean to shout- I’m sorry. But you must know that even if Vic wasn’t in here, this is a bathroom Lu, when the door’s closed you knock, right?’

‘I just wanted to show you Pluto,’ she mumbled into his robes, still tightly embraced in his hug.

‘Yes, well. We must be suffocating him at this point. Let’s see it then.’

Teddy settled back down on the floor, but not without placing Lily between him and Victoire, who shared a glance with him and smiled. The owl was rather ugly, but Teddy had no doubt it would end up lovely.

Lily was retelling her story of how Pluto came to be when a knock came on the door. Teddy looked up in alarm, then turned to Lily.

‘Listen Lu, you can’t tell anyone what you saw Vic and I doing, okay?’

‘I saw you kissi-!’ Teddy shushed her and held a finger over his lips. She looked at him with comical shock and copied his actions, pressing a finger to her mouth.

‘So, you won’t say anything?’

Lilly was halfway through a nod when a mischievous look painted her face, all too reminiscent of her mother. Teddy sighed. Bloody Weasley genes.

‘What do you want?’ he asked, deadpan.

Lily pondered this for a moment, humming and hawing. A knock echoed on the door and a voice that sounded like Harry’s travelled through the door.

‘Come on Lu.’

‘Your pudding!’ she shouted. Teddy raised his eyebrows in surprise, somehow having expected more from her, but he was ready to agree. Lily noted his surprise, however, and hastily added; ‘And Victoire’s!’

‘Done.’ Victoire said.

Lily frowned, still it had been too easy. ‘And you both need to kiss Pluto.’

Teddy grimaced, eyeing the wrinkled bird with apprehension. Vic leaned down and placed a kiss on top of the bird’s head, with no hesitation. He looked at her, then quickly copied her movements, scrunching up his nose at the fleeting contact.

‘What on earth is going on in there?’ Harry’s voice came through the door, louder this time. The three of them quickly stood up and Victoire turned the handle, coming face to face with Harry. Teddy saw his Godfather’s eyes bulge when the next person he laid eyes on was himself, so he rested his hands on Lily’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

‘Lighting’s best in the bathroom, Harry. Lily wanted to show us Pluto.’

Harry stepped aside for the three of them to pass, but Teddy didn’t miss the familiar look of cogs turning in his Godfather’s brain.

Lily ran ahead of them, making her way to the lounge. Teddy and Victoire looked at each other before entering the room, affirming with each other that the agreement they had made in the bathroom still stood true. They entered the lounge together.

Dominique and James were playing exploding snap in a corner, Albus and Louis were playing with a hovering snitch near them, taking turns to catch it and Lily had only just settled next to her mother, still cooing over Pluto.

Bill, Fleur and Ginny hardly sent them a cursory glance as they entered and made their way to an empty spot on the couch and sat down, close to each other but not unreasonably so. Teddy heard Vic let out a soft sigh of relief.

* * *

When Uncle Harry entered the living room again, Victoire did not miss the flickering of his eyes towards the couch where she and Teddy sat, hands brushing against each other. After that, however, he simply sat down next to Aunt Ginny and joined in the conversation with the adults, casually sipping a glass of wine.

‘Uncle Harry knows,’ Victoire leaned over to whisper to Teddy.

‘I don’t doubt it. He won’t say anything though, except maybe to Ginny. But they won’t say anything.’

It turned out Teddy knew his godparents especially well. With an excuse to check on some of the food, both Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had left the lounge, and then returned some moments later, not without Ginny sending a quick glance in Teddy and Victoire’s direction and letting slip a small smile.

Victoire bounced her leg. At this point, it was likely that everyone except her father knew that she and Teddy were dating. Dom had told Louis in a letter home, an action that her younger sister had been quickly admonished for, involving quite a spectacular shouting match in the Gryffindor common room. And Victoire wouldn’t be surprised if Albus knew in some strange way, He was like his father sometimes, all seeing, yet very quiet about it. Or, James had told him. Each possibility was equally likely.

Next to her, Victoire became aware that Teddy was talking to his Godparents.

‘-Neville’s fine. He said he’s going down to Cornwall to spend Christmas with Hannah’s parents.’

‘Oh, that beautiful house where they had their wedding,’ Ginny said, ‘We really must go down there again sometime, Harry, Cornwall is lovely.’

‘We should,’ Harry said, standing up and walking to the fireplace to poke the coals. ‘You’d like it Ted, you’ve been there before and we took you on a sailing boat, you loved it.’

‘I actually have some vague memory about that, if I recall correctly, you got a bit seasick?’ Teddy said nonchalantly.

Ginny laughed and leaned forward in her seat. ‘A bit! He was green all over and leaning over the side of the boat the entire time,’ she said.

Harry let the jibes roll over him. ‘It’s a surprise I know, I’m not good at everything.’

Victoire laughed along with the rest of them, and before she realised it, she was leaning back in her seat, settling comfortably against Teddy’s shoulder, his arm reached over naturally to stretch behind her. She brought her hand to rest just above his knee, moving her thumb over the denim of his trousers. The room went suddenly quiet.

Bollocks.

She chanced a glance at every other adult before looking at her dad, who was frowning and looking straight at the pair of them, a crease in his eyebrows.

Aunt Ginny looked ready to pounce on her brother the second he opened his mouth. Aunt Harry looked ready to hold her back. Her mum was looking between everyone with a calculating gaze.

The children had all noticed the silence in the room too, a latent bang exploded from the deck of cards on the table between Dom and James, the former of which had the smallest smirk on her face. Victoire looked again to her dad.

It was strange. Now that it seemed the cat was out of the bag, she found she didn’t mind one bit what her dad was going to say next. She settled further into Teddy’s embrace and raised an eyebrow.

Her dad’s frown grew deeper, but then he looked towards his wife and Aunt Harry and Uncle Ginny.

‘Did you all know about this?’ he asked, incredulous.

‘Only today, Bill,’ Harry reassured.

‘And we’re very happy for them,’ Ginny added, some warning in her tone.

Victoire shared a glance with Teddy, both shrugging, slightly put off by the conversation unfolding in front of them as if they weren’t there.

‘Fleur?’

‘I did know, mon amour, but Victoire wanted to tell you in person.’ Fleur soothed.

He looked back to her and Teddy.

‘Okay. Well- okay then,’ her dad faltered slightly. Victoire had to hand it to him, it was a bit of a surprise, and he was under the harsh gaze of his sister, who seemed ready to jump down his throat at any sign of disapproval.

‘You’re okay?’ Victoire finally asked, sharing eye contact with her dad. His eyes softened and she smiled.

‘Of course. Ted’s great. I actually don’t know why you thought you had to tiptoe on eggshells around me.’

Uncle Harry cleared his throat and muttered something, and her dad rounded on him. All attention was taken off Victoire and Teddy as the two men argued good-naturedly over some long-forgiven event.

Victoire looked up at Teddy and smiled. He squeezed her shoulder and returned the sentiment. She rested her head on Teddy’s shoulder and let the activity of the lounge wash over her, feeling in every bone of her body, that this was finally right.

* * *

Teddy rubbed his hands together and breathed out a mist into the cold air. The deck lamps offered some warmth to the cold of the winter night, moths clustering at the glass, but it was a cold and biting December night.

‘Ginny says she’s going to hide all the pepper-up, so that you learn a lesson staying in the cold this long.’

Teddy turned to face his Godfather, stepping onto the patio and holding two butterbeers in his hand.

‘It’s barely been half an hour.’

Teddy took the butterbeer from Harry and they hit the bottles together before taking a sip, looking out into the night.

‘So, Vic, huh?’

Teddy smirked and looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye.

‘Yeah. You’ve got a problem with that?’

‘No,’ Harry laughed. ‘I’m happy for you. Can’t say I never considered you two getting together. You were always thick as thieves- ‘Harry cocked his head ‘-Besides that phase you had where all girls were gross.’

‘Everyone has that phase, Harry.’

His Godfather shrugged and took a sip of his drink. ‘Just don’t do anything stupid. It would be really inconvenient to have Bill on my arse.’

Teddy nodded through a dry laugh, then went quiet. ‘I really like her, Harry.’

Harry clapped him on the back. ‘I can see that, Ted.’

They stood together in silence for a long time, finishing their drinks, listening to the nightlife. Teddy counted four distinct birds in the difference. Ginny had taught him how to identify the different owls in the area when he was young. Two were definitely Barn and Tawny.

‘We best get inside, I think,’ Harry said, ‘Ginny never goes back on a threat. And we have a late night tomorrow at the ministry.’

‘The Christmas thing?’

‘The Christmas thing.’ Harry turned to Teddy, stopping with his hand on the handle to the door inside. ‘Perhaps we’ll enlist Victoire to help you watch over this lot for us.’

Teddy smiled, then dipped his head.

‘I think that’s a brilliant idea.’


	5. Five Golden Rings

Harry raised his hand at the bartender and then turned to face the crowd steadily gathering in the Ministry Hall. The whole room shone with glitter and baubles. Trees stretched to the ceiling, piled in fake snow that shimmered, and circled by tiny sprites. The soft sounds of a piano travelled through the room above the chatter.

‘There you are Mr Potter. You have a good night.’

‘Cheers,’ Harry said. He grabbed a beer in one hand and a gin and tonic in the other, he swivelled on his seat and was about to depart when he was approached by a stunning green dress that leaned against the bar and waited a few seconds to turn a sly gaze on him.

‘So, do you come here often?’

Harry raised an eyebrow but replied. ‘Once a year usually. I’ve never seen you around though.’

‘Oh, I just arrived in Britain. I actually need someone to show me around…’

Harry laughed. ‘Trust me, you wouldn’t want me taking you around here. It’d be a nightmare.’

‘Well,’ a finger traced his chest, ‘you could show me around your bedroom at least.’

Harry swallowed and licked his lips, but then he shook his head and held up his hand, pointing to his ring finger.

‘Oh, lucky lady. Should I know her?’

‘She played quidditch.’

‘Any good?’

‘She’s good. Maybe not as good as I am though,’ He said through a lopsided grin.

‘Yet you became the auror Mr Potter.’ She leaned in close to him. ‘Tell me, how committed are you to this woman?’

Harry appeared to think for a second, then whispered back. ‘Very.’

He was met with a blazing look, but before she could reply, a loud voice interrupted them.

‘Ginny, bloody hell. It’s completely mad out there. I swear there’s something about Christmas that just sends everyone round the bend. Hermione always wants to talk to everyone,’ Ron sighed. He pushed between Harry and Ginny to order himself a drink.

‘Hello Ginny, how are you? I’m fine thanks. Oh, that’s good,’ Ginny said in a sing song voice, though her face remained deadpan. Harry snorted and took a sip from his beer, passing off the gin and tonic to Ginny, who took a decidedly larger gulp of her drink.

‘What’s got you all bothered? Were you two fighting?’ Ron asked his sister, oblivious as ever.

‘Quite the opposite really,’ Ginny said sweetly.

Ron made a grimace. He leaned against the bar with his elbows, looking out at the throng gathering at dinner tables. ‘I don’t even want to know.’

‘You do have quite a talent for interruptions, mate,’ Harry said, slapping Ron on the shoulder.

‘I don’t! I’m just being normal, and then you two decide to do- ‘Ron waved his hands between them ‘-whatever this is, in the middle of the ministry. I am not the problem here,’ he scoffed.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and they landed on Hermione, who was fast approaching them, looking rather pleased.

‘I’ve managed to set up a meeting with Stephen Barnes for Monday! God, I love it when ministry officials get drunk early at these things,’ she said, taking Ron’s beer from his hand and drinking a good portion. Ron turned around and ordered two more.

‘I’m glad someone’s enjoying themselves.’ Ginny threw a meaningful glance her brother’s way, and he made a face at her. When Hermione received her beer, Harry set off his chair, and they migrated away from the bar area, into some far corner of the hall.

‘Alright,’ Ginny said, as she settled against a pillar twisted with red ribbon. ‘What have you planned for us this year Ron?’

Ron rubbed his hands together and looked at each of them meaningfully. ‘This one is pretty high stakes, and it’s boys against girls so it’s going to get heated.’

Harry shot a glance Ginny’s way and she smirked at him. He suddenly felt very annoyed about Ron’s interruption. 

‘Give me your rings,’ Ron said, holding out a hand.

‘What?’ Harry spluttered.

‘Your rings come on. I said this was high stakes. It makes it more fun.’

‘Our wedding bands, Ron? What on earth are you planning on doing with them?’ Hermione asked, twisting her ring around her finger.

‘You’ll see, just come on.’

Ginny was the first to place her ring in Ron’s hand. A simple gold band with hers and Harry’s initials on the inside. Harry’s identical ring joined it, then Hermione’s daintier one. Ron slipped off his own band and placed it in his palm, then he fished in his pocket and drew out one more shining golden ring.

‘To make sure that there’s a winner,’ he explained. ‘Found it in the Burrow attic two weekends ago.’

‘I think that’s Aunt Muriel’s old lover’s ring,’ Ginny commented, looking at the ring with distaste.

‘What’s the plan, then?’ Harry asked, gesturing at the collection in Ron’s hand.

Ron tossed the rings in his palm a few times, grinning at them all. ‘We are going on a treasure hunt. And don’t worry, there will be no camping or mushroom soup involved.’

‘Oh well at least. Any death eaters or dark lords, though?’ Ginny joked. A waiter stared at them as he passed, and Harry waved him off.

‘Nothing of the sort. I have enlisted the help of a third party to hide these rings with several strangers at this very ball,’ Ron explained. He stepped back from their small group and seemingly out of nowhere, drew a witch in startlingly pink robes into their circle.

‘Luna!’ Ginny exclaimed.

‘Hello Ginny. Hello Harry. Hello Hermione. You’re all looking lovely.’

Ginny grinned and drew her friend into a hug, then leaned back and looked at her seriously. ‘My brother isn’t forcing you to help us, is he?’

‘Ginny!’ Ron started.

‘Oh, not one bit. I quite enjoy games, and I enjoy meeting new people. Especially so many here, they all have nargles batting around them. I think the rings will help, because they symbolise true love. Nargles hate true love. It’s been so useful having Rolf around, especially in bed before we go to sleep-’

‘Yes, isn’t it Luna.’ Ginny blushed, stopping her friend short. Harry, Hermione, and Ron shifted on their feet. After a beat of silence Luna spoke again.

‘Is it time to hide them now?’ she asked, turning to Ron with wide eyes.

‘Just about- ‘

‘Now hold on a minute,’ Harry said, ‘You’re giving our rings to Luna to pass off to strangers?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Well that’s- just- well that’s kind of. I mean, what if something happens to them?’

Luna patted Harry on the head, having to stand on her tiptoes to do so. ‘Don’t worry Harry. I can tell who would want to steal your rings. And you can always get them back with accio if I made it too difficult.’

‘Which is illegal unless you call a forfeit!’ Ron added in behind her. Harry grumbled but acquiesced. He brought his hands to hair, trying helplessly to smoothen it over. He looked at Ron again.

‘How do we win?’

‘Well Harry, the team who finds the most rings wins. We just wait for Luna to plant them and then we’ll be on our merry way,’ Ron said excitedly.

‘I’m impressed Ron, this is an excellent time-waster. Much better than Hermione’s Legislation Bingo,’ Ginny commented. Hermione let out a cry of indignation but was silenced by Harry and Ron’s similar looks of agreement with Ginny’s statement.

‘Uncultured prats,’ Hermione mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Ron brought his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

He checked his watch and then handed over the collection of rings to Luna, who cradled the objects in her hands as if she had never touched anything more precious. She looked to Ron for final confirmation and he nodded. She set off across the hall, soon disappearing in the crowds, even with her bright green dress.

Harry was abruptly dragged aside by Ron. He looked behind him to see Hermione and Ginny already turning their backs, heads bent close together.

‘Alright Harry, let’s talk strategy.’

‘Strategy?’

Ron brought his hand to his face in frustration. ‘Yes! You think this is just some silly game? That Ginny isn’t currently planning on crushing us? This is a fight for eternal bragging rights.’

Harry gave Ron a sceptical look. ‘…Okay. What are your ideas?’

‘Well it’s Luna, and she’s a bit of a wild card, but I think we should go for the battiest looking people in the room,’ Ron said.

Harry turned to look behind him, but Ron grabbed his shoulders. ‘You’re not allowed to look.’

‘What if we just search for the most confused looking people? I’d sit with a frown on my face for a while if someone like Luna came up to me and asked me to take a ring for safe-keeping.’

Ron pointed a finger at him. ‘Now you’re talking.’

‘But I think first we should go to- ‘

‘I’m done. I hope the nargles don’t give it away.’

Luna stood happily between the two split off pairs, hands behind her back and looking proud. Harry looked at Ron and they both said, ‘Rolf!’ Before starting a brisk walk into the crowd, hunting down Luna’s boyfriend.

‘Come on Hermione!’ Harry heard behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Ginny dragging Hermione with her, eyes scanning the crowd. Harry quickened his pace, Ron forging a path in front of them. He had to duck and swerve a few waiter’s platters, and he got rather close to one woman when she turned around unexpectedly. Harry tried to smile at the surprised guests. He would be worried too if he saw the Head Auror running urgently through a crowd.

‘There!’ he heard Hermione shout, and he swung his neck to see where she was pointing. Sitting and examining a leaf from the table decorations was Rolf Scamander, blissfully unaware of the battle that was about to rage over him.

‘Ron, come on!’ Harry shouted. They were a bit further away than Hermione and Ginny, but they had an easier time pushing through the crowd. Harry made eye contact with Ginny as she was almost stepped on by a large gentleman wearing horrid brown robes, and she had to reroute. He grinned and she sent back a finger.

Hermione and Ginny’s setback had proved detrimental. Ron and Harry reached the chairs a second before the girls and smiled triumphantly as they plopped down in the empty seats next to Rolf. Ginny had been so close to the same chair that she landed in Harry’s lap.

‘Gin, we’re in public,’ Harry said, sending an eyeroll the way of Rolf, who seemed utterly bewildered. Harry squeezed Ginny’s side and she jumped off him, turning and pointing a finger, about to spout some choice words.

‘Come on, he can’t have all of them,’ Hermione urged, and the two women left with one glare at their husbands.

‘Hi Rolf, Merry Christmas, you remember us, right?’ Ron said, extending his hand.

‘Remember you?’ Rolf said in surprise. ‘You ask the strangest questions. In fact, you both behave in the strangest ways.’

Ron let his hand fall, ‘Everyone’s strange to someone, it seems,’ he said good-naturedly. ‘Listen, Rolf- ‘

‘I don’t have your rings.’

Ron’s jaw dropped. ‘Luna wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!’

‘Uh-uh,’ Rolf corrected. ‘Luna wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that she gave rings to. I do not have any.’

Harry narrowed his eyes and leaned further over the table, scrutinising Rolf. ‘How can we trust you, Scamander?’

Rolf blinked rapidly at Harry and then lifted his jacket to reveal a small platypus-like creature hiding in his inside pocket. Harry slammed his hand on the table dramatically. ‘Damn Ron! He’s got a niffler!’

Ron swore. A beat of silence lasted between then three men. ‘What does a niffler have to do with this?’

Rolf gave Ron a withering look. ‘A niffler is a magical creature that almost lives to steal shiny and glimmering objects, Ron Weasley. He’d be hoarding your rings right now if I had them.’

Ron sat back in his chair, deflated, but then he shot back up. ‘Can we borrow him?’ he asked.

Rolf spluttered. ‘Of course not! To let a niffler loose in a place like this would cause unimaginable chaos. He’d probably find your rings last, if anything.’

Ron and Harry shared a look. Back to square one. They bid Rolf goodbye, not without telling him to keep an eye out, which Harry was sure he wouldn’t. They walked slowly into the middle of the dining section, scanning the witches and wizards laughing and talking. No one stood out to him, they were all acting positively normal.

Harry almost glazed over a pair of witches sitting at a table, but he did a double take when he realised it was Hermione and Ginny, leaning over and laughing at a joke that the bloke they were facing had just told. Harry sucked on his teeth. Even more to his ire, he witnessed the wizard reach a hand into his pocket and pull out a golden ring, which he promptly slipped on Ginny’s finger.

‘Ron, they’ve got one,’ Harry spat out.

‘Huh?’ Ron said, having had his back to Harry, scanning the crowd behind him.

‘They’ve got a ring.’

‘Bollocks. Think Harry. If you were Luna who would stand out to you?’

Harry tried to place himself in the mind of Luna Lovegood. He scrunched up his eyes. Nargles and Crumple-horned snorckacks. Rolf Scamander is the best wizard alive. Opening them again, he hoped someone to be outlined in a yellow glow, a beacon of Luna’s interaction with them, but no such thing happened. He considered the witch in an odd striped hat, the wizard wearing a sleeveless robe that looked more like a toga, all the absurd people he could find, but none of them felt right.

Looking far to his left, near the exit for the bathrooms, he saw one lonely woman at a table, sipping a glass of brown liquid. Harry squinted at her, then tapped Ron at the shoulder. He pointed towards the woman and Ron raised a quizzical eyebrow, but then started forward, heading for the abandoned table.

‘Good evening, ma’am. Would you mind if we sat down?’ Ron greeted. The woman looked up lazily, but then her eyes bulged at the sight of the pair of them.

‘Certainly, I’ll be on my way- ‘

‘-Oh, there’s no need, we’re just having a short rest.’ Harry assured. They sat opposite the woman and spent a while nattering between themselves, appearing as if they were arguing.

‘She won’t know!’ Ron hissed.

‘Ask her, for Luna.’ Harry played along.

‘You ask her then,’ Ron threw his arms up in a huff and almost fell over, he sat so violently back in his chair.

Harry sighed and turned to the woman, looking sheepish. ‘Mrs- ‘

‘Wiggins.’ The witch eagerly provided.

‘Mrs Wiggins,’ Harry smiled comfortingly. ‘Our friend has lost one of her rings, and we were wondering if you had happened by any chance to see a simple golden band lying around here?’

Mrs Wiggins' expression changed rapidly from intrigue to guarded. She reached a hand to toy with the tablecloth and frowned at Harry and Ron. The sound of applause momentarily drew all their attention. The piano player was bowing on the stage. Harry and Ron joined in.

‘That’s lovely isn’t it?’ Ron said.

‘It really is,’ Harry agreed.

They both looked expectantly at Mrs Wiggins, who now looked to be in slight pain.

‘She told me not to give it to two blokes- ‘

‘Bloody Luna!’ Ron shouted, ‘She’s cocked up this whole thing- ‘

‘-or two birds.’ Wiggins added, wincing at Ron’s outburst.

Harry placed a hand on Ron’s back. ‘Excuse my associate. Luna loses things all the time and he gets worked up about it. But back to this whole “don’t give it to two blokes or birds” thing. Why is that?’

‘I don’t know. I was asked to keep it and not give it to anyone, especially two blokes or birds.’

‘You’re an honourable woman, Mrs Wiggins, but you know who we are. We’d never steal a ring from some poor woman. Luna is our friend.’ Harry assured.

Mrs Wiggins looked uncertain, but her hand twitched towards her pocket.

‘If you like, my friend Ron here can crawl under the table and we can pretend that I alone approached you,’ Harry offered. Ron nodded wholeheartedly beside him and was already halfway under the table when Mrs Wiggins drew out a shiny gold ring from her waist coat and handed it over reluctantly to Harry. Harry smiled and examined it.

‘Yours,’ he said, tossing it to Ron.

‘Brilliant,’ Ron said, slipping the ring on his finger and crawling back out from underneath the table. Wiggins was looking between the two of them in alarm.

‘Trust me, this will not come back to cause you any distress. Thank you, ma’am, we’ll send you over another whiskey.’ Harry said, standing up and straightening his robes.

Wiggins shouted after him as they walked away ‘Bourbon, Mr Potter!’

‘Quick stop at the bar then,’ Harry said as they walked away. The crowd seemed to have thinned and more guests were sitting at the tables, eating from platters.

‘Willing to do anything to get those rings hey? What _did_ that old woman make you do under the table Ron?’ Harry felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and then Ginny skipped up beside them, grinning mischievously.

Ron looked scandalised, but Harry came back with a retort first.

‘Nothing worse than you two with those blokes over there,’ Harry gestured towards the table that he had seen Ginny and Hermione sitting at.

‘Oh,’ Ginny’s eyes brightened, and she linked her arms with his. ‘You saw that did you?’ she whispered in his ear, leaning up to him. Harry closed his eyes at the sensation she caused and opened them again to see she was playing with the chain around her neck and looking at him intensely.

‘See something new?’ She asked.

‘No way, you’ve got two already! Where was that one?’ Ron exclaimed.

There was a ring dancing on Ginny’s necklace, identical to the one she wore on her finger. She toyed with it, smiling, all the while never taking her eyes off Harry. ‘A witch never tells.’

Ron shook his head and swore under his breath. Harry stared one moment longer at his wife’s chest but then blew out a breath of air and looked around. He suddenly felt very hot.

‘Where’s Hermione? Is this a distraction tactic?’

Ginny shrugged coyly. ‘We have a strategy, yes.’

‘Come on Ron, we’re getting Wiggins a drink and then finding those two other rings,’ Harry muttered. It took great effort for Harry to drag himself away from Ginny, who was still batting her eyelashes and twirling her fingers around the ring on her neck. His ring.

‘We’ve got to win. We just have to.’ Ron affirmed as they reached the bar. Harry requested a drink to be sent over to the lonely woman at the far end of the hall and then joined Ron in leaning against the bar, looking for another outlier. Two young wizards drew up next to them, and Harry tuned into their conversation.

‘I don’t know, she looks familiar, though doesn’t she?’

‘Sort of. Confident, that’s for sure.’

‘She is kind of fit, don’t you think? In a doe-eyed sort of way.’

‘If you can handle the barmy, yeah.’

Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and cocked his head in the direction of the conversation.

‘She wasn’t that bad, just different. I reckon this ring is garbage though, properly the start to some lame pick-up line,’ the wizard closest to them inspected a gold band, and Ron gasped. It was Hermione’s. Harry stopped him just in time before he interrupted the two men, holding him back with an arm.

‘God, I need a piss. Greg’s been pushing the stuff on me; I swear he never stops.’

‘Let’s go before we grab the next round then.’

Two pairs of eyes followed the blokes as they left the bar and made their way to the bathroom. Ron leaned forward.

‘D’you think?’

‘Yes,’ Harry said. Once again, they weaved their way in between the crowd. They sent a wave Mrs Wiggins way and then slipped into the restroom, which was festively decked in garlands of holly. They zeroed in on the two men at the urinals.

Harry stepped up beside the one who had displayed the ring and went about his business, staring at the wall. He could hear Ron whistling a tune at the other end. Merlin, they stayed there for long.

The bloke next to Harry finally did up his robes and stepped away from the wall, crossing the tiles to the washbasins, his friend did the same and Harry shared a glance with Ron. They mirrored their movements at the urinal and bordered the two young wizards.

‘Say, Ron, have you heard about the cursed rings that have been circulating social events recently?’ Harry started, pretending he didn’t even notice that there were two men between him and his friend. Harry noticed the shoulders of the man next to him stiffen, his ears perked up. The taps stayed running for far too long.

‘Why no Harry, would you care to explain?’

‘Well, it’s actually quite sensitive information, but apparently a young woman has been going around handing out rings to men and using the rings to enslave them!’

‘Gosh Harry, that sounds quite serious,’ Ron countered. Harry detected the edge of laughter in his voice.

‘It is. I’d say, if anyone knew about the rings, or Merlin, even had one, they should hand it in to an auror immediately. Which is me. I am one. An auror. You know.’

Ron suppressed a snort. ‘Oh yes you are.’

The two wizards between them were not even trying to appear as if they were washing their hands anymore. Quick as a flash, the man nearest Harry threw a ring on the counter and whipped his coat around to leave, his friend following hot on his heels. Harry barely saved the ring from going down the drain, but soon he was grasping it and smiling in satisfaction.

‘Just one left,’ Ron said, swiping the ring out of Harry’s hands and putting it in his jacket pocket. ‘I think we’ve got this in the bag mate.’

Harry led them out of the restroom, and they found that the dancefloor had opened during their absence. Witches and wizards swayed to the piano music now accompanied by a small orchestra up on the stage.

‘Where do you reckon Hermione and Ginny are?’ Ron asked.

‘I don’t see them. Though we’d have been bombarded by now if they’d already won.’

Ron hummed in agreement and they remained on the outskirts, once again trying to find some anomaly that pointed them to the ring. After a while, Harry spotted Hermione and Ginny standing much like them, at the opposite end of the hall, whispering to each other.

‘We know that that Luna’s given the rings to two blokes and an old woman. We don’t know where Ginny got mine.’

‘Indeed.’

Harry tapped his foot on the floor, thinking. He roved his eyes over the room methodically, then did a double take when a flash of gold caught his eye. He tapped Ron on the arm, not taking his eyes off the glinting object.

‘Ron! Look at the piano.’

His friend lifted his head to focus on the stage, where the pianist was leaning over the grand piano, hands brushing over the keys. Above her, on the shiny black surface, there sat a ring that Harry was certain was theirs.

‘Bloody hell it’s just right there.’

‘Alright,’ Harry started, ‘We’ll walk slowly over, pretend we’re just making the rounds, then get on the stage at the last second.’

Ron agreed and they set off at a leisurely pace, stopping every now and then to pick a pastry off a waiter’s platter or chat with someone from work. Harry kept glancing at the ring, getting closer and closer. He also found Hermione and Ginny again, still standing at the edge of the dancefloor. Ginny was scrutinising him. She leaned over to whisper something in Hermione’s ear.

‘Bit faster I think,’ Harry urged Ron on, almost at the stairs to the stage. Harry chanced one last look the way of the girls and cursed. They were nowhere to be seen! He whipped his head around and saw Ron rushing up the stairs to the piano, Hermione came dashing up the opposite set and they reached the piano at the same time. Hermione beamed at the pianist, who impressively hadn’t missed a note in the commotion. Some sort of bargaining session that Harry could not exactly hear broke out among the three of them.

‘How does it feel to lose, Harry?’ Ginny sidled up next to him, watching the debate with him.

‘I don’t know,’ he turned to her with a smirk, ‘how does it feel?

Ginny scoffed and at that very moment, Ron and Hermione both reached for the ring, but in their haste, they sent it flying off the piano, over Harry and Ginny’s head and into the middle of the dancefloor. Harry stared after it with wide eyes.

‘We haven’t had a dance yet, have we?’

He turned to face Ginny, who was holding out a hand to him, looking at him with a challenging gaze. He swore under his breath, but took her hand cautiously, leading them onto the dancefloor. Their hands fell into familiar places, and they stepped close together, joining the swaying dancers.

Harry craned his neck to look over Ginny’s shoulder, trying to find the ring, but he was suddenly led backwards by her. He changed tactics.

‘You know, that dress is something else on you,’ he said, giving her a dashing smile.

‘I do know, thanks love,’ Ginny, not lifting her eyes from some spot on the floor over his shoulder where the ring was presumed to be. Harry tightened his grip on her waist and swung them around. There it was, glittering in between the soles of dancing witches and wizards.

Harry was almost upon the ring when it was kicked away and slid over the floor to the opposite corner. They worked together to move through the crowd, chasing after it.

‘Where did you get my ring, by the way?’ Harry asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. ‘Some barmy woman. She knew it was yours, from the initials! Had it on her finger and all.’

‘Oh, and you didn’t like that?’ he teased.

‘It bothered me the slightest bit, I’ll admit.’ Ginny stuck her nose up in the air. Harry laughed and spun her around, forgetting for a second that they were in a competition.

Ginny looked over her shoulder, then back at him. ‘Dip me,’ she said, already leaning back.

Harry obliged and she swung gracefully to the floor, one hand even stretched out artfully behind her and-

‘No!’ Harry pulled her back up abruptly and she careened into his chest with an audible ‘oof’. ‘You’re bloody sneaky!’ he said, seeing the ring on the floor where seconds ago it had almost been in her hand.

Ginny was still wiping her hair out of her face and adjusting her dress. ‘I’m a Weasley, Harry, what do you expect?’

‘Technically, you’re a Potter.’

Ginny waved him off. ‘That’s just as bad. You know what that means though?’

‘What?’ Harry smirked.

She leaned on him and lifted one leg behind her, bent at the knee. There, on the stiletto of her heel, the ring was wrapped around. She gracefully plucked it off and examined it.

‘It means we win,’ she said with glee, then she pulled him close and kissed him hard. ‘Consider that your loser’s compensation.’

Harry stared at her in awe. ‘How the bloody hell- ‘

She waved a finger in front of him. ‘A witch never tells.’ And then she took his hand and led them off the dancefloor, they met Ron and Hermione bickering at an empty table and Ginny held up the ring in her hands. Hermione jumped up from her chair and the two of them started to do some sort of bouncing jig. Ron groaned and leaned forward in his chair, head in his hands. Harry collapsed next to him.

‘Sorry mate, it was a battlefield out there.’

Ron scoffed but sat back up and clapped Harry on the back. ‘It’s alright. I think we were the more honourable team anyway.’

Hermione and Ginny were close enough to hear that and immediately rounded on him. They spent close to another hour at the function, teasing and laughing. They even raised a glass of champagne to Hermione and Ginny’s victory.

When the clock struck twelve, they decided to call it quits and made their way to the floos. After saying their goodbyes Harry and Ginny materialised in the fireplace of Ashden Run.

‘You know,’ Harry said as they exited under the mantelpiece. ‘That loser’s compensation didn’t seem like much.’

‘Well I didn’t say that was all of it,’ Ginny whispered back. They tiptoed through the living room, where Victoire was sleeping on the couch, and came to the hallway.

‘Tea?’ Ginny asked, hovering in the junction to the kitchen and stairway.

‘Gin, are you kidding me?’

‘Yes,’ Ginny grinned, and she leaped up the stairs, Harry started to chase after her. They laughed in hushed undertones, teased and joked. They were almost at their bedroom when Teddy emerged from his own, hand running through his mussed-up hair.

‘How was your night?’ he asked through a yawn.

‘Brilliant, Ted, thanks for watching the sprogs,’ Harry said brightly, wrapping his arms around Ginny who was pressed to his side.

Teddy regarded them for second, then made a face of disgust.

‘Merlin. Sometimes I hate that I was born early enough to see you two behaving like randy teenagers.’

‘Harry was deprived the opportunity to be a randy teenager, Ted,’ Ginny explained. ‘The least I can do is indulge him now.’

‘Just, don’t say things like that in front of me,’ Teddy waved his hands. ‘I’m going back to bed.’

‘Night Ted,’ They both chorused. Harry looked down at Ginny with a smirk. ‘Indulge me, eh?’

Ginny rolled her eyes and dragged him into the bedroom. ‘Come on, Potter.’


	6. Six Geese a-Laying

Like what he had finally grown used to, after his last child had officially moved out, Arthur Weasley woke with the birds, and cracked his eyes open to the still dark morning.

He turned over onto his back and stretched. He curled his toes that clicked, lifted his arms above his head and yawned. Relaxing back into the bed, he glanced over to his side, where Molly was also steadily rousing herself awake, rubbing her eyes with vigour.

‘Good morning.’ Arthur managed through another yawn. He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek, and she smiled in return. He heaved himself to the edge of the bed and sat there for a moment, working off the last vestiges of sleep.

Leaving the bedroom, he threw a gown over his blue-striped pyjamas and stepped into his slippers. The house creaked as he made his way downstairs. It was always louder in the winter, with the cold. The clanging of frozen pipes echoed throughout the stairwell. The ghoul would be sure to wake him up if the birds didn’t.

Arthur finally stepped down into the kitchen and set the kettle on the hob. He opened the front door with a swish of his wand and came to lean on the doorjamb, watching dawn rise over the hills of the countryside. A gaggle of geese waddled over the hill and settled in the yard, picking at the grass.

‘What do you think about steak and kidney pie for tonight?’

Arthur turned away from the view outside and smiled at Molly, who was pouring the water from the kettle into two mugs.

‘That sounds lovely. I’ll probably be home early, too.’

They started the morning with their usual routine, moving smoothly with one another to prepare breakfast, a hearty meal of scrambled eggs, bangers and toast. The geese on the lawn kicked up a fuss every now and then, truly indicating the break of dawn.

‘How’s your day looking?’ he asked, as they sat at the kitchen table eating together.

‘Christmas preparation, mostly. I’ve got all the jumpers done, thank Merlin, but I’ll have to get on the bedding today and start planning the actual meal. We have more than enough biscuits and pastries that’s for sure.’

‘Well if there’s enough…’ Arthur’s eyes slid over to the pantry, where he knew his favourite biscuits resided.

‘No. We have enough for everyone, not enough for you to start on them now,’ Molly said, ‘but I’m going to make some for us today,’ she added with a smile.

Arthur reached over the table to take Molly’s hand in his and squeezed. He got up from the table and set his dish to wash in the sink.

‘Any kids coming over today?’

‘Haven’t heard, but anything could happen. The Christmas fundraiser was last night, so Ginny will probably be working at home and Hermione’s parents have been rather attached to the kids since Hugo- well, you know,’ Molly stifled a laugh.

Arthur chuckled and turned to go back upstairs to change. ‘That kid has character, nothing wrong with that.’

‘I believe that’s exactly what we told ourselves when one of ours did the same thing,’ Molly shouted after him.

‘And they turned out okay, didn’t they?’ Arthur replied. He shook his head and made his way slowly up the stairs. He washed and dressed at his leisure, and by the time he was back downstairs the sun was shining in a crisp blue sky, melting away the snow that had fallen overnight. He threw on his coat, gave Molly a kiss goodbye, and then stepped into the floo, to be whisked away to the Ministry of Magic.

The Ministry was not so busy at the time that he came in to work. There was a steady flow of witches and wizards appearing from the floo, but there was no bustling to get into the elevator, or drone of noise hanging about the air. The atrium was decked in Christmas decorations, remnants of last night’s ball, and a large Christmas tree stood proudly at the centre, twinkling with lights.

Arthur navigated the hallways to his office, nodding at and greeting familiar faces on the way. When he arrived at his door it was to find most of his colleagues already at their desks. He smiled at the sight of the blindingly lit up set of cubicles that had dominated their office since mid-November, courtesy of their very enthusiastic Junior Detection Officer.

‘Morning Mr Weasley.’

‘Good morning Collins, I believe the fake snow is new?’ Arthur replied as he observed the small flurry that was swirling above his colleague’s cubicle. Collins grinned, then almost fell off his chair for leaning back so far.

‘My sister finally taught me the charm. ‘Tis the season Mr Weasley!’

Arthur nodded. ‘Just make sure you don’t flood the floor,’ he said, turning away from the cubicles and making for his office door.

‘I know you love it!’ He heard called after him, and he found himself smiling as he shrugged off his coat and hung it up. He sat down at his desk and tapped his fingers on the desk before leafing through the small pile of papers that were waiting for him in his in-tray.

There was another wizard selling male supplements for the bedroom that simply ended in disastrous consequences, as detailed by many reports from St Mungo’s. A new pop-up shop in Diagon Alley was also allegedly handing out bracelets that promised to guard one against dragon pox but seemed to be spreading the disease faster than ever.

Arthur whiled away the morning flicking through the reports, signing off on procedures and getting up to date with any of their ongoing cases. Around eleven o’clock the soft beat of Christmas music floated through his doorway and he couldn’t help but investigate. And so, what ended up carrying him through to lunch was officially termed an informal meeting to anyone who asked but was really a small private Christmas party.

‘Alright, I am leaving you all to get some lunch, and then when I get back, we have to tackle that case in Tredgrym,’ Arthur eventually announced to his gathering co-workers. A few of them hollered good-naturedly.

‘Mr Weasley, we have lunch here!’ Collins said, holding up a bowl of crisps. Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head.

‘I mean a hot meal, Collins. Carry on with this, I’ll be about an hour probably. And the case won’t take us long, but better to do it today than cut off our holiday time.’

Arthur made to leave the office, and as he closed the door, the volume of the Christmas music increased slightly. He blew out a breath and then started on his way to the canteen. He really was getting a bit old for it all, not keeping up with the youngsters like he used to.

He stepped into the elevator and whistled a tune as it descended, until it shuddered to a halt and opened onto the atrium, where tucked away in a corner was the Ministry canteen. Arthur felt his stomach rumble, only now realising the extent of his hunger.

The dining area was rather full, and he scanned the witches and wizards on their lunchbreak, looking for any familiar faces. His eyes soon settled upon messy black hair. Harry was seated at a table slightly removed from the general seating area, and he was accompanied by Hermione and Ron. The three looked to be deep in conversation. A very familiar sight.

Arthur made for the trio, and as he approached, Hermione took notice of him and smiled. She waved her wand and conjured a chair for him, scooting over.

‘Good afternoon all, ‘Arthur said, settling into his seat. They responded in kind and Arthur observed the menu for a minute before deciding on a hearty onion soup, that appeared before him as he tapped his wand to the menu.

‘Who won last night then?’ he asked. Ron huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, while Hermione failed to hide her smug expression next to him.

‘The girls won,’ Harry replied, ‘But, Ron and I decided we were definitely the better sports.’

Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘We won fair and square, being a sore loser does not make you a good sport.’

‘If I recall correctly, Arthur interjected, ‘you two have won the last two years, so you really shouldn’t be complaining boys.’

‘But winning three years in a row is so much better than two, dad,’ Ron said.

Arthur nodded along, taking a spoonful of his soup. There was Christmas music playing over the canteen too, and he tapped his foot to the tune. Ron and Hermione kept bickering while Harry watched in amusement, Arthur shared a look with him and rolled his eyes dramatically, causing Harry to laugh.

‘Everything alright with the shop Ron?’ Arthur eventually interrupted his son and wife. Ron stopped mid-sentence at the distraction.

‘Oh- oh yeah. I’m just here for my lunch break, but George and Verity have it under control. Those new charmed card decks we brought out are leaving shelves faster than we can manage. And the Christmas spread always does well.’

‘Lots of people getting their Christmas shopping done?’ Arthur asked innocently.

‘Well yeah, usually picks up more in the third week- wait a minute!’ Ron exclaimed. He pointed a finger at his dad. ‘Hermione and I have a schedule, we’re going on the weekend, there’s no need to worry.’

Harry let out a snort and Ron rounded on him. ‘Have you got your presents yet? Oh, no you haven’t, because you’re doing the rounds with us.’ Ron turned to face Arthur again. ‘Why don’t you ever pester Harry, dad?’

‘Because Harry has never forgotten to give his mother-in-law a Christmas gift.’

‘I’ve never forgotten to give Mrs Granger a gift,’ Ron said obstinately.

Harry stifled a laugh and Arthur narrowed his eyes at his youngest son. ‘You know what I mean, Ron. Your mother hid it very well, but she was rather devastated.’

Hermione buried her face in her hands and mumbled something. Ron patted her on the leg. ‘Don’t think that I felt just dandy about it, either. In fact, us Weasley siblings are planning something special for mum this year.’

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise and glanced at Hermione and Harry who were sharing knowing looks. ‘Really?’ he asked.

‘Really,’ Ron said.

‘Well that’s very good to hear. We can take the kids for you on the weekend if you want.’

‘Ginny and I were planning on asking, thanks Mr Weasley,’ Harry said. Arthur smiled at him, long past asking him to call him Arthur, let alone dad.

‘I think you may have the whole brood on Saturday then,’ Hermione said. ‘I heard Fleur mention they were visiting a friend of hers in France on the weekend, and George and Angelina are considering getting their shopping done with us too.’

‘Percy and Audrey are coming around for lunch too,’ Arthur added thoughtfully. ‘The more the merrier I say. I can put them to work in the yard.’

‘Dad- ‘Ron said.

‘I’m just kidding. They’re grandkids so they’ll have nothing but the best. A day of hot cocoa and games is on order I think.’

Ron scoffed and grumbled something about spoiling children and what it did for their character. Arthur laughed and sat back in his seat. He whiled away most of the lunch hour adding in the occasional comment to the conversation carried by the Harry, Hermione and Ron. He enjoyed simply listening to them talk about their lives, glimpsing a small part of their day. Certainly, all three of them working at the ministry together had brought Arthur closer to Harry and Hermione, and he often joined them, and usually Percy, for lunch.

He was just beginning to look at his watch, suspecting he was well over his expected hour-long departure from the office, when an out-of-breath young man wearing red robes ran up to their table and stopped short, crouching over.

They observed him for a while, before Harry greeted him. ‘Hello Lombard, is something the matter?’

The auror held up his hand, still catching his breath, and Harry smiled and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t look very alarmed at the sudden interruption.

‘Mr Potter,’ the trainee gasped, lifting his head, and for the first time Arthur noticed glinting red fragments in the aurors hair, mixed in with what seemed to be plaster. Harry leaned forward in his chair and waited for the young man to continue.

‘The training room. There were these giant explosions, but it- we think- ‘Lombard glanced nervously at each of them sitting at the table.

‘We think they were, um, well. Wheezes products Sir!’ The auror spit out.

Harry snapped his fingers and exclaimed, standing from his chair. He whirled around to push his chair in and grinned at the three of them. Arthur observed the commotion with interest, rarely seeing his son-in-law in such a state.

‘I knew it would be today but using my own family against me! Oh, she’s got it coming,’ Harry said to himself. He pushed off from the chair and put an arm around the trainee’s shoulders, who subsequently went red and looked both very embarrassed and very pleased. Harry flicked his wand and the trainee’s hair was cleared of any dirt.

‘Harry do not tell me this is about your Christmas feud with Gwafa- ‘Hermione started, looking at him shrewdly, Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. Auror Gwafa was one of the best senior aurors in the department, and as far as he knew she and Harry got along very well.

Harry waved his hand at Hermione. ‘Come on Hermione, it’s a tradition! And it’s Christmas!’ He looked up at the ceiling and sighed happily. ‘I’ve got to tell Ginny about this.’ He said, staring vacantly into the distance.

‘Harry- ‘Hermione started, but before she could get a word in, Harry shook his head and looked at his trainee.

‘Come on Lombard, let’s go and inspect the damage,’ he said, ‘Good afternoon Mr Weasley, Ron, Hermione.’ He nodded his head courteously at them and then spun around with the trainee, leading them towards the elevator. Arthur watched them retreat in amusement, then cleared his throat and scraped his chair back.

‘I’d best be off too,’ he said, facing his rather annoyed-looking daughter-in-law and his unashamedly amused son. Ron leaned forward over the table, looking up at him.

‘Before you go, just so you know, Charlie is coming home for Christmas.’

Arthur raised an eyebrow. ‘And how is that?’

Ron shrugged and pointed a finger back at Hermione, who smiled. ‘We pulled some strings, got him some dragon stuff to do here so he has no excuse not to come. He’s arriving next week Friday.’

‘And, I suppose he’s staying with us?’

‘Well, we’ve left open the offer for him to stay with us,’ Ron gestured to himself and Hermione. ‘But he hasn’t decided, that’s why I’m telling you, just in case.’

‘This is your present for mum?’ Arthur asked.

Ron tilted his head and shrugged. ‘Kind of. Not all of it, that’s for sure.’

Arthur assessed his son closely, then nodded. ‘Well alright I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to host Charlie; it’ll just be a tight squeeze in the Burrow this year.’

‘We always manage. The kids will be out in the garden anyway.’

‘I am looking forward to Christmas day then,’ Arthur said. He pushed in his chair, said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and started on his way back to the office. He thought about seeing Charlie again, nearly a year after seeing him last Christmas. He didn’t usually come two years in a row, and it would be a nice surprise for Molly. To have the whole family together.

When he walked back into the office, the commotion had certainly died down, but his colleagues were settled down in their desks, chatting. Arthur considered calling it a day then and there, but he shook his head and clapped his hands together. ‘Right, let’s get to it then.’

When all was said and done, they still managed to finish the workday early and Arthur found himself gathering his things to leave before the clock struck four. He returned to the Burrow, expecting to emerge from under the mantel to an empty kitchen, but was rather faced with the sight of a few family members at the kitchen table. He stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off his robes, and was met with a chorus of greetings.

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting all this,’ he said, receiving a hug from his youngest grandchild. Percy and Audrey were at the far end of the table, joined by their daughter Molly, and Bill and Fleur were next to them. Victoire, Dominique and Louis were dotted randomly around the kitchen.

‘We decided to come for dinner now that Vic is home,’ Bill explained, to the rather loud sigh of his eldest daughter. Arthur shot a glance Victoire’s way and she smiled at him, though he could tell she was in a mood. She got up and kissed him on the cheek.

‘Hello Granddad,’ she said, ‘It’s very nice to see you again.’

‘How was school, Victoire?’ Arthur asked.

‘Brilliant,’ she said, looking directly at her dad, ‘They let us stay there without adult supervision sometimes, can you believe that?’

Arthur stifled a laugh and had vivid flashbacks to many conversations he had had around this very table. Bill was less reserved than he was though and rolled his eyes at his daughter’s behaviour.

‘Victoire, we are not starting fights in your grandparents house- ‘

‘-I’m not- ‘

Fleur sent her daughter a look and Victoire shut her mouth. At that moment, Molly descended from the stairs and greeted Arthur with a kiss.

‘And look who turned up on our doorstep,’ she said, moving over to the stove, where a pot was happily bubbling.

‘I know. Any special reason for your visit Percy?’ Arthur asked as he sat down in between Louis and Victoire at the table.

‘We actually have a last-minute dinner with one of Audrey’s potential clients and we’re leaving Molly and Lucy with you for the night.’

‘I’m sorry dad, it’s rather an important one. We hate to put you on the spot though,’ Audrey added.

‘That’s fine, perhaps they can help us put up our last few Christmas tree decorations. I know the tree is missing a star at the top still.’

Lucy’s eyes lit up and she immediately turned to grab her sisters’ hand, dragging her up the stairs to the attic where they knew that the Christmas decorations resided.

‘Don’t break anything up there!’ Audrey called after them.

‘Oh, don’t mind them, there’s just knick-knacks up there anyway,’ Molly said. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.

‘How was work Arthur?’

‘Fine. I had a nice lunch with Ron, Harry and Hermione. It seems Harry is currently engaged in some war with a colleague. And the girls won the annual fundraiser time-waster.’

‘What?’ Percy spluttered.

‘Yes, apparently it was quite contentious.’

‘No, dad, about Harry’s colleague!’

‘Oh,’ Arthur leaned forward in his seat. ‘Well I really don’t know much about that, but he seems quite happy about it.’

‘I swear everyone gets barmy around Christmas,’ Percy said. ‘Half my department was in two hours late this morning! And I was the only one who asked permission to leave early today.’

‘Perce, I’m sorry to tell you this, but leaving work from early is far from the barmiest thing one can do.’ Bill said.

Percy and Bill started in on one another and Arthur leaned over to talk to Victoire, who was still rather impressively sitting with crossed arms and a cloudy face. Fleur and Audrey quietly slipped away into the living room.

‘What’s your dad up to now?’ he asked quietly.

Victoire rolled her eyes over to face him, looking perfectly morose, but managed a small smile. ‘Boys,’ she simply said. Arthur nodded understandingly, waiting a while to ask another question.

‘Boys? Or one boy?’

Victoire scratched at a spot on the table. She sighed then turned in her chair and leaned in close to him, making sure that no-one else could hear.

‘Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard yet Grandpa, but,’ she hesitated. ‘Teddy and I are dating,’ she said. Arthur feigned surprise, having long ago suspected the two to be in a relationship. ‘And I spent the night at the Potter’s last night to help Teddy look after the kids, and dad thought I would be coming home, which,’ she sighed. ‘I admit I did say that.

‘But then I fell asleep on the couch and just came home in the morning and he’s been so unfair to me about it all. Because nothing happened!’ Her voice raised slightly, and she halted, making sure her father and uncle were still engaged in their argument. Molly was now involved too, holding a wooden spoon between them and looking stern.

Arthur paused, thinking before he responded. He patted his granddaughter’s hands. ‘I think he must have been worried about you, saying you would come home but then not. Bill’s always felt fiercely for family, Victoire,’ Arthur said, looking up at his eldest son. ‘He’s also the eldest brother of seven. It’s always been his job to protect, he can go overboard sometimes.’

‘I just really don’t like being his little girl. I don’t think he’ll ever think I’m grown up.’

‘Victoire, I’m very sorry to tell you, but you aren’t grown up. Not just quite yet,’ Arthur said. Victoire’s eyebrows creased. ‘But when you are, I’m sure you’ll be a fine young woman, and your dad will see that.’

Victoire sighed and tilted her head to the side. She sent him a small smile. ‘I suppose Uncle Harry had it a lot harder than me.’

‘From me?’ Arthur asked.

‘Merlin no’, Victoire laughed, ‘From all my uncles.’

Arthur leaned in closer to whisper to Victoire. ‘If I had to think who had the hardest time getting into this family, I’d say it was all your aunts. Molly thinks very highly of her boys, and only a select few could make the cut. She always loved Harry.’

‘So, my mum...?’ Victoire raised her eyebrows in surprise.

‘Let’s just say it took a while for her to grow on us.’

‘Dinner is ready! Audrey I’m sure your appointment is in ten minutes!’

They both looked up as Molly shouted across the kitchen, wielding a steaming pie. Fleur and Audrey emerged from the living room and while Fleur sat at the table, Audrey gathered her things to leave. Percy joined her and the couple shouted upstairs to their daughters, saying goodnight.

Those remaining in the kitchen settled down for dinner, joined by Molly and Lucy who were covered in several cobwebs. Soon, good chatter filled the room, passed around with drinks and food, the night ended quite late for all of them, when Bill and Fleur were finally waved off and Molly and Lucy were tucked in in the twin’s old room.

Arthur made sure to lock the kitchen door and blow out the kitchen lamp before he retreated upstairs, to find Molly already settled in bed.

‘I never did ask you about your day love,’ he said, readying himself for bed. She lowered the knitting she was busy with and looked up to the ceiling in thought.

‘Well it was rather nice. I got everything I wanted to do done. Made those biscuits. And then Fleur came around quite early with the kids, so we spent the afternoon together talking some more about arrangements for Christmas day.’

‘We’ve apparently got them all booked for Saturday by the way.’

‘Oh? Are they all having a party without us?’

‘Bill and Fleur are going away, and the rest are getting their Christmas shopping done.’

Molly made a face of surprise, then hid it, picking up her knitting again. ‘That’s very nice.’

Arthur climbed into bed and sighed as his head touched the pillow. Molly leaned over and brushed over what little hair was still left on his head. ‘Tired?’

He yawned. ‘Quite,’ he said. He closed his eyes and listened to the clack of knitting needles for a while, before it stopped and he felt Molly shift in the bed, leaning over to turn off the lamp. She laid back down and he opened his eyes to look at her in the dark.

‘We got a pretty good lot, didn’t we? He murmured to her.

‘Mm,’ she agreed.

‘Goodnight Molly.’ He closed his eyes and found her hand, enclosing it in hers.

‘Goodnight Arthur.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I mean besides the geese that Arthur sees at the beginning the association with the title is very loose. UNLESS you squint. The prominent Weasley couple in this chapter has seven children, but six alive, and they're all starting families of their own. (Charlie has dragons, okay).


	7. Seven Swans a-Swimming

‘James, stop irritating your brother,’ Ginny said entering the kitchen, where complaints and shouts spilt out of, heard all the way from the upstairs landing.

‘How do you know it’s me?’ James cried, swivelling on his chair. Ginny took one look at her eldest child and he backed down, mumbling as he poked his cereal. Albus sent him a smug look and moved pointedly to the opposite end of the kitchen table, munching happily on his own cereal.

Ginny flicked the kettle on and leant against the counter, shivering. She had woken to the sight of a flurry outside that had brought with it a biting cold. The numerous jumpers and thick socks she wore seemed not to help, losing all warmth from the bed. She observed her sons with small wonder. They both wore their thin winter sleepshirts and long cotton pyjama pants. Bare feet swinging under the table.

‘Aren’t you two freezing? I can’t have you coming down with colds.’

‘You’re just cold all the time mum, like, it’s basically boiling hot right now. Girls are always cold.’ James rolled his eyes and Ginny stared at him in disbelief. Albus nodded at his cereal bowl, agreeing with his brother.

‘That is not true, and very rude, James. You can’t make generalizations like that- ‘

‘-Mum! Please, please, pretty please can you make some porridge? It’s so co-old.’

Lily stormed into the kitchen, wrapped in her fluffy bright yellow dressing gown, decorated with cartoon swans, and matching puffy slippers scuffing the floor. She wrapped her arms around her mum’s waist, teeth chattering dramatically and looked up at Ginny with big eyes.

Ginny pursed her lips, and sent a glare towards her two sons, who were looking far too smug for her liking. She looked back at Lily and ran a hand through her hair. ‘You really do pick your timing, huh?’

‘Pleease,’ Lily urged again.

Ginny nodded and set to work at the stove, pulling out a large shiny pot, lighting up the gas underneath it. Lily climbed onto a stool and the three children bickered and talked in the background while Ginny worked. The oats were just thickening up when Harry entered the kitchen, yawning, followed in uncanny resemblance by his godson who looked just as tired.

Teddy sat down at the table and caressed his head with a groan while Harry fished in the kitchen cupboards, glass bottles clinking against each other as he stuck his head further amongst the shelves.

‘Gin- ‘

‘In there.’ She didn’t even lift her head as she pointed towards the opposite set of cupboards. Harry nodded and moved past her, hands brushing against her hips. He leaned in over the pot. ‘Smells great,’ he said, then kissed her cheek and moved on to retrieve the hangover potion he sought.

‘I suppose drinks with Ron and George went longer than expected,’ Ginny said slyly as she set bowls of porridge on the table, eagerly taken up by her family.

Teddy, who had recovered quite well with the aid of the potion, waved his hand in the air. ‘It wasn’t supposed to go so late,’ he mumbled.

Ginny hummed, taking a spoon of porridge. ‘It never is,’ she said.

‘It’s unfair! I should’ve been able to go!’ James shouted suddenly. Harry mussed his son’s hair and James squirmed away from the touch, a deep furrow in his brow. ‘He’s not even of age yet!’

‘I know Jamey, and I actually didn’t expect it to get that bad. But you’ll have your time soon enough,’ Harry soothed, but James didn’t appear mollified in the slightest. Harry left James to seethe on his own and turned to Ginny. ‘Did you have a good night?’

‘It was nice. We got a few pizzas from the club and then we built a giant fort across the whole living room and hallway. It was rather intricate, wasn’t it, Al?’

‘It was perfect,’ Albus said, looking at his dad with bright eyes. ‘I wanted to leave it up forever, but mum said it would be annoying to crawl through it every time to get across the hall.’

‘Can’t imagine why,’ Harry said, sending a wink Ginny’s way, and she rolled her eyes.

‘I also managed to get started on wrapping gifts.’ She said smugly. Harry raised his eyebrows, impressed.

‘Bought and wrapped same day? That’s a Potter record I’d say. Usually we’re still putting the ribbon on in the middle of the floo.’

‘Well this year is the year we have a calm Christmas. Like normal families,’ Ginny said, though she broke out in a laugh halfway through. ‘At least as normal as we can get,’ she finished, trying to hold a straight face.

‘What’s the plan for today then?’ Teddy suddenly raised his head, looking at his godparents expectantly. ‘Because I’d like to go to Shell Cottage if that’s al- ‘

‘Owls are here!’ Lily exclaimed, pointing out the window, in what had become routine ever since the acquisition of her own owl. The family all turned their heads to the windows, where two owls were indeed steadily approaching.

‘Why’s there two?’ Ginny asked. Harry got up from his seat and opened the window as the owls arrived, fluttering onto the breakfast table. One of them carried the Daily Prophet, their usual subscription, and the other carried-

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Harry said, taking the package from the second owl and looking at it with disbelief. He flicked through its pages, glossier than newspaper. Ginny inhaled sharply and left her chair to look over Harry’s shoulder.

‘Wankers,’ she whispered. ‘Trust them to make sure we get a copy too.’

Harry opened the magazine to the middle, where a large photo, identical to the one on the cover of the magazine, resided. The inhabitants smiled and waved, laughing at one another. Every now and then they would all straighten up and smile, and a flash would flicker on the page. The couple read together.

**_Insiders and Outsiders: What it Takes to Be Part of Wizarding Britain’s Most Famous Family_ **

**_Philomena Faraday_ **

_It was when I was throwing a small and very emotional funeral for my primroses last week tuesday that my neighbour Gladys poked her head over my fence and uttered the December-issue altering question. “Are you going to run the glazed gammon recipe this year then?”. In my shock (and grief) I could only reply with a curt nod, and a pointed stomp back into my house. Curtains were drawn and candles were lit. Quill was put to ink, ready to etch out every ingredient and every instruction for what had become a memorised passage, with a spiteful vigour._

_But then- and Gladys, please don’t take this personally- I stopped and thought for a moment. I considered why Gladys had said such a horrible thing. What it meant for this publication, what it meant to me as a writer. I found that perhaps this year the centre spread of Witch Weekly required something different than my tried and tested Christmas lunch (though that can still be found on page twelve). Something that I haven’t done before. Something that will not only excite, but enthral. Something that will certainly not warrant neighbours leaning over fences. So then, my dear witches (and wizards, don’t worry, I won’t tell) what do I have for you this blessed time of year?_

_Well. I didn’t know. Not until last night at least, and yes by date of publication I mean last night. I was about to give up, to simply give you a fluff piece about yuletide and which colours are in for the table settings this year, but fortune befell me and our dear editor breathed a sigh of relief when I handed in my final draft this morning._

_The Leaky Cauldron is, and always has been, my go-to pub for writing. One may think the noise and general uncleanliness make for poor concentration, but I enjoy the hubbub, the ever-constant presence of my muse: people. I was contemplating my third butterbeer when every journalist’s dream entered from the streets of muggle London. A red-cheeked quintet bundled in scarves and homemade jumpers. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, George Weasley and Mr Potter’s godson, Teddy Lupin._

_This, I thought to myself, was bound to have been a force of nature. A destiny I had arrived at, right on time. I do, however, have my boundaries. The fiercely famous group sat at a table far removed from mine, and though I was wont to cast the charm that circles such circles as writers inhabit, that would allow me to listen more closely to their conversation, I held back and observed. And, if I was rewarded for such self-control, it was in the form of a glorious idea, some quick detective work and an illuminating story for you today._

_So, exposition over, the scene is set, the title has been read, when on Godric’s Good Goblet is Phil going to get to the point? Now. I assure you._

_When the holiday season rolls around, no matter if you celebrate it or not. No matter if you celebrate it in a different way to your neighbour (such as, having a pink Christmas tree instead of a green one. That your neighbours can see from your window. That they know is fake. Again, Gladys, not personal) the season is a time for family. For spending time with loved ones and leaving behind a good deal of the woes and stresses accumulated throughout the past year._

_And is there not such a famous, such a renowned, revered, respected family as that of the Potters and the Weasleys? A family that, rising from the ashes of the second war, gave us all something to aspire to, something to admire. It begs the question, or at least it piqued my interest. How does this family spend the holiday season?_

_We all have our traditions, our little quirks that make this season what it is. There is no doubt that Molly Weasley has a carefully manicured Christmas day menu, that Hermione Granger-Weasley has a specific preference for her Christmas tree decorations. There is also no doubt, that attending such a Christmas gathering of theirs as an outsider must be terrifying._

_To be invited into the fold for an afternoon of celebration is no doubt an honour, but one laden with numerous traps. Opportunities to blunder and stumble. I managed to track down a source close to the family, and now, may you ever receive a thick creamy envelope inviting you to Christmas lunch at ‘The Burrow’, you will perhaps be prepared._

_Let’s start with introductions. Who do you even say hello to first? Imagine walking into a cosy living room, flames dancing happily in the hearth, and every eye turns to you, assessing keenly. It’s certainly common knowledge that the annual Potter-Weasley Christmas gathering is held at the childhood home of the Weasley children, and so we greet the Weasley matriarch and patriarch first. Mr and Mrs Weasley. From there, my source told me that the order is not strictly specified, though there is one more very important note. Mr Potter may only be addressed as sir, even his children only call him sir. A slip up in this area is sure to give you the boot._

_Then, you’ve settled down. Your nerves are easing slightly. Perhaps you’re there as a partner of one of the numerous grandkids (though I hear the eldest adoptee of the family has found someone that the family already knows quite well, read more on page forty-five). What’s next to worry about? Well, did you bring something for the lunch table? Mashed potatoes or a selection of vegetable couldn’t hurt, right? Wrong. They could. Mrs Weasley controls Christmas dinner and Mrs Weasley alone, you are not to meddle. And if you don’t like the way she cooks her carrots or presents her Yorkshire puddings, you best stay quiet about it._

_But I’ve forgotten the most important aspect, haven’t I? What are you going to wear? Ginny Potter and Hermione Granger grace the pages of this publication almost every month, having set a new precedent for wizarding fashion. Out with drab robes and aged cloaks, in with muggle jumpers and trousers. We’ve curated a holiday style guide that should keep you on trend with all the latest fashions, and I advise you look closely at the casual options outlined by stylist Holly Menzel. You may not have a homemade jumper, but you can at least make sure they know you would look good in one._

_And then there are the small things. One would think it would be polite to fawn over Harry Potter’s numerous scars and wonder at how brave he is, but that is a strict no-no. If you even flick your eyes up to that ever so famous scar, chances are, my source says, you’ll be out of the house before afternoon tea is served. You better get used to kids too, and the drool and noise they carry with them, because the new generation of Potters and Weasleys overcrowd any gathering of the family._

_Make sure that everyone picks a seat before you, and then slot in where you can. Don’t start eating until Ron Weasley has. Always be up for a game of pick-up quidditch, no matter if there’s a blizzard raging outside. Be clued up on current politics. Don’t lean into whispered conversations. Do not join Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger when you see them seated together. Trust that Ginny Potter’s bat bogey hex is formidable._

_Never accept any food or drink from George Weasley._

_And is that it? Of course not! But, my dear readers, we would be here for far too many inches of parchment if I were to outline every key to your successful navigation of a Weasley-Potter Christmas. Sometimes, you may even do everything right, but to no avail. As my source said:_

_‘It all comes down to if you’ve got that spark. If you have something that intrigues them, that interests them, that puts you on their level. Otherwise it’s mostly hopeless. They’re a judgemental lot.’_

_Life truly is a stage, and we are all actors upon it, performing for the most famous family. I can’t say I blame them. With all the strife and toils of the past, I’d be pretty selective with who I hang out with too. There’s no time for nobodies or snooze-fests. That’s what draws our attention so keenly to them, their very air of mystery and intrigue._

_I will return to my primroses this afternoon and wait for my neighbour Gladys to poke her head over the fence and tell me how flattered she was to have been the inspiration for this piece. Then I will storm inside once again and light candles to take a long bath and pat myself on the back. I will spend Christmas with my sister-in-law in Ireland, where we always open presents on Christmas eve and play muggle games after dinner. The Potter family will no doubt assume their own traditions when the twenty-fifth rolls around. And you, my darling witches and wizards, will do whatever you do, and be thankful that you were not invited to Christmas lunch at the Burrow._

Harry and Ginny stared at the final full stop for a few minutes, simply trying to process what they had just read.

‘I have to be called Sir,’ Harry eventually said. Not a question or a demand.

‘I’m a fashion icon?’ Ginny questioned, taking the magazine from Harry’s hands and thumbing through the glossy pages until she reached the style article, where many candid photographs of her in Diagon alley roamed.

‘Bloody hell, they really have no shame,’ she said.

‘Let’s see it then,’ Teddy said, holding out his hand and beckoning for the paper. Ginny handed it off, shaking her head.

‘Seems they know about you and Vic, Ted,’ Harry said, sitting back down at the kitchen table. He poked his porridge around his bowl, contemplating it. ‘Do you reckon we come across as that judgemental?’ He asked.

Ginny huffed and scattered a generous helping of sugar over her own breakfast. ‘Of course not. A little intimidating, yes, but not judgemental.’

‘What’s judgemental?’ Lily asked.

‘It means making fun of people for ways they behave or look and thinking they’re worse than you for it Lu.’

‘Like when you were talking to Aunt Hermione yesterday about dad’s snoring?’ she asked innocently.

Ginny pursed her lips, ignoring Harry’s snigger to her side. ‘That’s different, I know your dad very well, so I’m making an informed decision. Plus, snoring is generally accepted as annoying.’ She sent Harry a meaningful look.

‘So, I can say that I think James is gross, because I know him well?’

‘Hey!’ James shouted, spewing porridge over the magazine he was reading with Teddy.

Ginny winked at her daughter and mouthed yes. James returned to the magazine, muttering something about betrayal.

‘Who do you suppose this mysterious source is?’ Teddy asked as he finished the article.

‘No one,’ Harry said, ‘Half the time these so-called sources are non-existent. Especially if the author has managed to track them down in the middle of the night. The whole things rubbish. All that stuff is just put together from older stories.’

Ginny agreed, nodding her head. She finished her porridge slowly, letting the conversation wash over her. It was only the beating of wings, approaching their house for the second time that morning that caught her attention. A large barn owl landed on their kitchen table, fluffing its wings.

‘Hello Iris!’ Lily exclaimed, reaching for the letter contained in the bird’s beak. She handed it over to Harry, already leaving her chair to find treats for Ron and Hermione’s owl. Harry flicked it open and his eyes skimmed the rather long page.

‘Just a rant from Hermione promising retribution,’ he said. ‘Honestly it could’ve been a lot worse. At least she didn’t make up any affairs or question the legitimacy of our children.’ He tossed the letter on the counter and Ginny went to grab it but stopped on the way as she spotted the time on the kitchen clock.

‘Merlin!’ she said, shooting from her chair. ‘We’ve got to get to Muriel’s in an hour! Harry why didn’t you tell me the time!’

Harry spluttered as her children protested loudly.

‘I wanted to see Vic today!’

‘I wanted to fly!’

‘Well, it’s good that there’s a day after today, because you can do what you want tomorrow! I don’t enjoy it any more than you do, but she’s family and she’s helped us all very much in hard times! Up you get.’ She corralled her children out of the kitchen.

The whole family migrated upstairs, pushed by Ginny and helped along by Harry. James whined and turned back to his father. ‘Do we have to? She smells so weird!’

Harry laughed and scuffed his son’s hair. ‘It could be worse Jamey. You could be an outsider.’


	8. Eight Maids a-Milking

Ginny stepped up to the front door, lifted the heavy brass knocker, and announced their arrival. She turned back to her family as they waited for the door to open, assessing each of them keenly. Harry smiled at her encouragingly and she squeezed his hand. James had somehow managed to dirty his shirt already and Albus was staring off into the distance, ignoring Lily, who was trying to tell him some story or other. Teddy was, bless him, actually trying to appear interested.

‘Best behaviour, alright?’ she confirmed. Her children mumbled something of an agreement and she rolled her eyes. She was just about to pull out her wand to spell off that dirt on James when the door opened, and she nearly fell backwards inside.

Harry caught her and spun her around, now facing the house-elf who was waiting at the door with wide eyes.

‘Welcome Mr Potter, Mrs Potter to the noble house of Prewett.’ The elf bent down low, greeting them.

‘Hello Tilly,’ Ginny said, brushing hair out of her face. ‘How are you?’

‘Tilly is fine, Mrs Potter. Please, come through to the tea-room.’ The elf waited for the family to spill into the entrance hall, decadent and dark with cherry wood panelling and red runners on the creaky wooden floor. A collection of portraits to rival the walls of Hogwarts greeted them, oil paintings flitting in and out of their frames. The only indication of Christmas was a change in the colour of candles lighting the room- striped red and green.

They moved from the foyer and into a much better lit sitting room, though decorated in the same manner. In the corner, at the lounge set, an old woman sat with ankles crossed and back straight, sipping from a cup of tea.

They approached her, eventually stopping as Tilly bowed low once again. ‘Mr and Mrs Potter, Mistress Prewett.’

As if noticing them for the first time, Aunt Muriel lifted her head to look at the family huddled together. She flicked her eyes over them, eventually landing on Ginny. ‘Ginevra, your son has a spot on his shirt.’

Ginny clenched her fists, but smiled sweetly at her aunt, moving forward to place a kiss on her cheek. ‘Hello Aunt Muriel, how are you?’

The old witch responded with a wave of a hand and Ginny sat down as Harry moved to greet Muriel, the children following him. Soon they were all seated and being poured tea by Tilly. There was an awkward silence as the elf moved around the table, shakily handing a cup of tea to Lily even, who seemed rather pleased to be treated like an adult.

‘Are those new robes, Aunt Muriel?’ Ginny asked politely, not able to wait for the older woman to speak anymore.

‘These drab things? I was completely ripped off at Madam Malkins last week. The public have no interest in witches of integrity anymore…’

* * *

James expertly drowned out the conversation starting between his parents and batty great aunt, and chugged his tea down, laying it down on the side table with a clatter. The lamp next to him was frilly with a golden stand, similar to the rest of the room, draped in heavy fabrics and dark colours. He toyed with the golden trinkets decorating the table, then chanced a glance at Teddy, who seemed to be actually interested in his parent’s conversation.

‘Teddy,’ he whispered. ‘Teddy. Teddy!’

Teddy flicked his eyes towards James, his hair subtly growing a bit redder from the auburn he had chosen today. ‘What?’ he said.

‘Let’s do something fun,’ James said, leaning forward in his chair. Albus, who was seated next to him, leaned forward with him.

‘What are you two talking about?’

‘None of your business,’ James said quickly.

‘I’m not talking about anything, Albus. James here might be though. If you want to do something fun, do it with him,’ Teddy pointed towards Albus and James rolled his eyes.

‘When did you get so bo-oring?’ he whined. ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if you metamorphosed into Aunt Muriel right now?’

Lily perked up at this, giving up her attempt at gracefully sipping tea and sitting up straight. She scrunched her legs up on the settee and leaned over Teddy, looking up at him. ‘Yes! Do it Teddy!’ she said excitedly.

Teddy frowned, looking at them as if they were crazy. ‘Not in a million years! She doesn’t like me in the first place, she’ll throw me out if I do that.’

‘Well then it’s a win-win for you,’ James quipped. ‘I’ll come with you in protest and then you can go to Shell Cottage and I can spend the rest of the day at home flying.’ James settled back into the couch, arms coming behind his head, looking smug.

‘I’m not doing it!’ Teddy stressed. He stood up and moved to the opposite couch, closer to Aunt Muriel. James stuck his tongue out at him, and Teddy responded by growing a pig nose, making a face at him. James had to hide a laugh, and their dad noticed, looking suspiciously between all his children.

‘Do you kids want to go play outside?’ Their dad asked, sensing the impending chaos that could erupt in the room without some outlet for it. James, Lily and Albus nodded enthusiastically, and got up from their seats rapidly.

‘Is it alright if they go outside?’ Their mum asked, turning to Aunt Muriel.

‘They must stay out of my mulberry bushes. I need those for my silk fishmoths, they produce very fine threads. You won’t find anything like it in the stores today. Harry, you surely don’t understand just how drastically the standards of wizarding Britain have dropped…’

James didn’t hear the rest of Aunt Muriel’s sentence, already halfway through the door when his mum sent him the final nod, letting him go outside. He led the three of them into the elaborate courtyard at the back of Aunt Muriel’s grand house.

‘I like our forest, but I wish we had cool statues like Aunt Muriel too,’ James said, walking up to a moss-covered statue carrying a set of stone scales. He picked a stone up off the ground and placed it on one side, tipping the scales. The statue moved, neck tilting to look down at him. A finger waved at him disapprovingly. The statue picked up the stone and threw it further out into the garden, manicured with hedges and fountains.

‘They creep me out a bit,’ Albus said, steering away from the statues, and coming to a frozen over basin of a fountain, he cautiously tapped the ice.

‘Well you better get used to it, because there aren’t just statues at Hogwarts, there are ghosts too!’ James approached his brother with a haughty look. He dipped down to grab a handful of snow. ‘And sometimes they go clean through you, and you know what it feels like?’

Albus looked uncertainly at the snow in his brother’s hand. ‘I can imagine well enough,’ he said, but James wouldn’t have it, he dropped the snow on Albus’ head and ran off cackling. ‘It feels like that!’

Lily gasped, then laughed and picked up a handful of snow of her own, running after James, entering the maze of topiary and stone. Albus shook the snow from his hair, feeling the cold trickle down his spine. He shook his head and ran after them. ‘I’ll show you what it feels like!’

‘Oh, I’m so scared!’

Muriel’s grounds were extensive, and besides the very important mulberry bush which Lily had pointed out, the three siblings took free reign of every piece of land. A layer of snow thicker than they had received at their home covered the ground and provided ample ammunition for a rather gruelling snowball fight. The statues either aided or betrayed them, which only made the game more tense.

‘I’ll mould, you shoot,’ James whispered to the Adonis statue he hid behind, sometime well into the fray. The statue lowered the bow and arrow it carried, ready for him to load snowballs on to.

‘James!’

James jumped and turned around to see his sister standing with her hands on her hips. ‘What?’ he said, moving around the statue to shield himself.

‘You can’t put snowballs onto an arrow! You’ll kill someone!’ she shouted.

James considered his sister. He hated it when she was right. He tossed the snowball he had been rolling over his shoulder and held up his hands. ‘I wasn’t going to do that! I was going to tell him to get rid of the arrow and shoot the snowball alone, obviously.’

Lily raised an eyebrow at him, in a manner that resembled his mother far too uncannily. She opened her mouth to speak but was overrun by a shout coming from the direction of the house, which was now a good distance from where they stood.

‘James, Albus, Lily! Lunch!’

James threw his head back with a groan, while his sister ran off towards the house, screaming happily for food. ‘I was about to win!’ he said, grounding his foot into the snow.

‘And who was keeping score?’ Albus emerged from the hedge to his right, overladen with snowballs in his arms. ‘I was about to ambush you when you turned the corner,’ he explained.

James scoffed. ‘I knew you were there.’

‘Sure,’ Albus said.

‘Well we can call it a tie,’ James said, bringing an arm around his brother’s shoulders. ‘We can see who can hit the statues the best, five points for the body, ten points for the head.’

Albus laughed. ‘I don’t think they would like that very much.’

‘Then I’ll race you to the table!’ James shouted as he tore away from his brother, making his way towards the house, flitting past the tall hedges and snowy pathways. He heard Albus shout behind him and kept running until he finally reached the back door, where his dad was waiting.

‘Unfair,’ Albus panted, catching up to him. ‘You had a head-start.’

James shrugged and move past his dad, into the house. He peeled off his jacket and slipped off his wellies, trudging into the dining room where the rest of the family was already seated. He climbed on the seat next to Teddy, and breathed in, relishing the smell of good food.

‘Very rude for children to be late to the meal, Ginevra, you should have called them sooner.’ Aunt Muriel remarked as Albus and their dad entered the room. James’ mum smiled tightly, merely nodding her head. James snuck a glance Teddy’s way and he shook his head, leaning closer to him.

‘She’s been on top form this morning. I don’t know how Ginny hasn’t exploded yet,’ he whispered. James made wide eyes and looked at his mum once more. Why Aunt Muriel was such a crab he didn’t understand. His mum was perfect. She had been an international quidditch player!

‘Sorry about that. We’re all here now though,’ his dad said, taking a seat next to his mum. Aunt Muriel gave everyone at the table an appraising look, then leaned forward to serve herself some vegetables. The rest of them soon followed her cue.

‘You should’ve joined our snowball fight Teddy,’ James said, stuffing a forkful of roast beef into his mouth. Teddy nodded his head, cutting up a Yorkshire pudding for himself.

‘You wouldn’t have known what hit you, it would’ve just been unfair.’

James spluttered. ‘Oh please. When was the last time you even went outside? All you do is talk about Victoire these days. Victoire this and Victoire that.’ James waved his hands in the air, batting his eyelashes.

‘I was playing out there before you were even a thought in your parents mind,’ Teddy said through a laugh, though he tilted his head and considered his godfather across the table from him. ‘Well before you were a thought in Ginny’s mind at least.’

‘Ugh don’t talk to me about stuff like that,’ James said, dropping his knife and fork on the plate. He turned away from Teddy, who was still laughing, and tuned into the tail end of his parent’s conversation with Aunt Muriel.

‘And she had eight sisters! All of them at one point had a baby on their bosom, some two, because twins ran in the family.’ Aunt Muriel was lecturing.

James grimaced. Perhaps he would’ve been better off talking to Teddy. His dad looked slightly uncomfortable and his mum seemed to be getting redder by the second.

‘That is what I don’t understand Ginevra. You married so well, but then you go and think you can get a job. The quidditch was another story but writing for the Prophet! Don’t you think she should be at home with the kids, Harry?’

A strange tension settled on the table, and now even Lily and Albus were listening to Aunt Muriel. There was not an elf in sight.

Their dad cleared his throat. ‘I think Ginny should do what she wants to. And I’d support her in whatever that may be,’ he said carefully.

Aunt Muriel pursed her lips and James sunk lower in his chair, feeling there was nothing that could come from his great aunt’s mouth next that would be good.

‘My Gulliver would never have allowed it. He was a good wizard, he treated me well, but reminded me of my place, the few times I forgot it. You don’t get that these days,’ Aunt Muriel shook her head. ‘And just the three children Ginevra? If there was one thing your mother got right- ‘

‘I’m feeling a bit hot, please excuse me!’

James’s head swivelled as his mum jumped up from her chair, shouting her excuse. She violently slapped down the napkin in her hand and pushed back her chair. They heard the backdoor slam not a few seconds later. James stared intently at the tablecloth, feeling very strange. No one had said anything mean to him, but he felt inexplicably angry.

A long silence fell over the table.

‘Well, there are the Weasley genes coming through- ‘

‘Teddy, won’t you and the kids clear up the table and bring in dessert.’ James watched as his dad got up from the table too. Aunt Muriel was looking at him with incredulity, wrinkled hand settled at her chest. His dad left the room, the same tell-tale slam of the door announcing his exit.

* * *

Harry’s boots crunched in the snow as he walked through the courtyard. He followed fresh footprints, stepping over them as he ventured further out from the house. The impressions were light, like the person leaving them had been running. He shook his head shoved his hands in his pockets.

He soon came to a crossroads, where the footprints weren’t as clear. It appeared she had backtracked at some point. A gargoyle statue in the middle of the path unfurled its wings and stretched out one long finger, pointing to the left. Harry nodded at the stone creature and turned down the pathway. The hedges grew taller here, the tunnel straight and narrow.

The path eventually opened into a clearing, marking the very edges of the land. A tree bare of leaves, but heavily laden with snow, grew on the cusp of a hill and shaded a stone bench that offered views over the valley below. Ginny sat there, staring out at the distance, red hair stark against the white landscape.

He didn’t sit down immediately, not knowing if she wanted the company, so he stood a little bit behind the bench and joined her in looking out at the view. The sun was already setting, painting the sky orange. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked right out.

She sighed and didn’t reply for a long time, but he waited until she turned her head and spoke. ‘She just- my word she really can be a cow.’ She said. Harry held back the urge to laugh and tentatively came to sit next to her, clearing snow with his wand.

‘I would’ve stormed out earlier if I were you,’ he said.

She gave him a sceptical look. ‘No, you wouldn’t have.’

‘You do remember the time I blew up my own aunt, don’t you?’ he said, sending her a lopsided grin.

She let out a dry laugh and looked at her lap. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever related to you more. Though you were fourteen, I’m an adult woman.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Apparently.’

‘I think if I saw her today though, I wouldn’t fare any better. Probably worse.’ He said. Ginny looked at him and he smiled at her softly. She reached for his hand and entwined their fingers, then leaned her head on his shoulder.

‘I know the kids will never get it. Maybe you don’t get it either, but she really helped us that year. I can’t just forget that and act like she doesn’t exist. I don’t know what- what would’ve happened if she hadn’t helped us.’

Harry squeezed her hand. ‘I think I understand. Sometimes horrible people can do the right thing. The one right thing that really matters,’ he said, thinking of someone else entirely. ‘That doesn’t make them any less horrible. It just… gives us perspective, I suppose. And a tough choice to make.’

‘A choice?’ she asked, looking up at him.

‘How awful they were, and if their one good act was big enough to cover it.’

‘Have you decided?’ she asked quietly.

‘I’ve never managed to decide, no. It wavers, with time and place.’ He rubbed his thumb along her hand. She settled against his shoulder again, and he rested his head on top of hers. They sat together for a while, not talking, just calming down. A fox called in the distance, answered soon enough by another.

‘You’re very deep,’ Ginny mumbled after a while.

‘I’ve always been incredibly wise,’ he said without missing a beat, and he heard her scoff. He fiddled with the ring on his finger. The ring that matched Ginny’s. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you decided you don’t want to visit again, you know.’

‘I know.’ She lifted her head and stretched, lifting her arms above her head. ‘To be honest I think every time we come here, I end up the day vowing that we just had our last visit.’

‘Maybe we can manage once a year then, when the trauma from the last visit wears off.’

She hummed somewhat of an agreement and stood up from the bench. She looked marginally better, Harry thought, at least not red faced from anger. ‘We can make bingo cards,’ he said, standing up. ‘What she’ll say, who’s out to get her this time. Like the ministry party.’

She smiled at him, then linked her arm in his and led them on the pathway back to the house. Lamps illuminated the garden, more of them lighting up as the sun sank lower beneath the hills.

‘I hope she didn’t start in on the children,’ Ginny said as the back door came into sight. Her worries were short lived however, as all four of the kids came into view, sitting at various statues and eating pudding out of bowls. Teddy sat up as he saw them.

‘Aunt Muriel said she was feeling tired and went upstairs, and that we could have pudding on our own. She also said you don’t have to say goodbye,’ he said uneasily.

‘Well that just won’t do,’ Ginny said, frowning. She turned to Harry. ‘Why don’t you stay here, I’ll go say goodbye and then we can floo out.’

Harry nodded and she left with a kiss on his cheek, trudging back into the house. Harry debated following her but thought better of it and scuffed his boots in the snow, looking at his children. ‘Sorry to leave you all on the spot,’ he said.

‘Aunt Muriel’s crazy!’ Lily shouted, some custard spilling from her open mouth. Harry laughed and came over to wipe his daughters face, kneeling to come eye-level with her.

‘She is different, not crazy. She’s been through a lot and we have to remember that she’s done a lot for this family.’

‘Like what?’ Albus said dubiously.

‘She helped your mum, when she was younger.’ Harry hesitated. ‘During the war, when I was away, and things were at their worst.’

Albus grumbled something under his breath, turning back to his pudding, mushing it in his bowl. Harry glanced at James too, who seemed thoughtful. He sent him a questioning look and James smiled softly, nodding. Lily put down her bowl and wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck, yawning. ‘I’m tired, dad.’

‘Mm. Me too, Lu. I say we all go home, have some cocoa and spend the rest of the evening by the fire, in pyjamas.’ Harry said, lifting Lily up.

‘That sounds nice,’ she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She rested her head on his shoulder and Harry was quite sure that she fell asleep in a few seconds, becoming heavy in his arms.

‘Alright, let’s get going.’ Ginny appeared in the doorway, looking slightly flushed but alright. Harry joined her inside, Teddy, James and Albus trailing after him. They came upon Tilly in the dining room, clearing up the last of the table settings.

‘Thank you for the meal, Tilly,’ Ginny said as the elf bowed low. ‘Can we floo out from the lounge?’

‘Yes, I will lead you there.’ The elf turned and ushered them into the grand living room, a room that their family seldom entered when they visited Aunt Muriel. ‘Mistress Prewett enjoys your visits very much. They give mistress health,’ Tilly said as they drew up to the fireplace.

‘Well Tilly, that’s a very interesting point of view,’ Ginny said. The elf looked at her strangely before bowing low one last time and greeting them, then scuttled out of the lounge. Harry turned to the mantelpiece, searching for floo power, but instead he found his own face looking back at him. Hair looking much neater and wearing formal robes. Ginny beamed next to him in a white dress

‘Hey, Gin.’ He pointed towards the picture frame. She came closer to him to inspect the photograph, gasping slightly when she saw it. It was only as they both looked further along the mantelpiece that they saw the collection of framed photos containing all their family members, smiling down at them.

‘Even I’m here.’ Harry turned as he saw his godson pointing towards a photograph of him holding a baby James, laughing. One of his teeth were missing, making for an incredibly goofy smile.

‘She always said photographs were too modern,’ Ginny whispered, skimming along the large fireplace, studying each frame. ‘Yet she has photos from every event we’ve had for the past fifteen years.’

‘So she is kind of crazy,’ Albus muttered. Ginny rolled her eyes at her son, then turned to look at Harry, clasping her hand in his.

‘No she’s not, she just does some crazy things.’ She said.

‘Things we don’t understand,’ he murmured.

‘And we can decide if the crazy outweighs the awful.’ She smiled at him. They held eye-contact for a moment, before Lily shifted on Harry’s shoulder, breaking their focus. Ginny ushered James and Albus into the fireplace, sending them home with floo from a holder on the wall. Teddy went next, leaving the two of them alone.

They stepped close to one another in the floo, still holding hands. ‘Let’s go home,’ Harry whispered.

Ginny lifted her hand and threw down the powder, green flames erupted around them. ‘Ashden Run,’ she said. The fire flared, the coals burned, and the world lit up beneath them, they fell through the fireplace, journeying back home together.


	9. Nine Ladies Dancing

‘I’ve got this one!’ Charlie shouted, almost spilling his entire drink on a wizard standing behind him. The wizard turned around with a shout, throwing up his hands. ‘Priveste!’

‘Sorry mate,’ Charlie said, sending him a grin.

The wizard returned to his table, rolling his eyes. ‘Turistii,’ he muttered to his friends. Charlie shook his head and moved on, weaving past him.

‘Six of your finest Andrei,’ he shouted, throwing his hands up as he landed heavily against the bar, squashed against the weathered wood by the humming crowd. He downed the beer he still held in his hand and scratched at the table, until six tankards of glorious golden liquid were slid before him.

‘Busy tonight, eh mate?’ he said, as he flipped some coins onto the counter. Andrei smiled ruefully at him.

‘It’s holidays, what do you expect? You are not only tourist in town now,’ he finished with a deep laugh, coming from his belly. Charlie struggled to gather the glasses in his hands, sending one final look the bartender’s way, then threaded through the crowd once more, finding his friends at a sticky table in the back.

‘Is it just me, or has this place never been so busy?’ he commented as he settled the beers down on the table, met with cheers.

‘There’s never been a veela party this big here, that’s for sure,’ Alina said, drinking greedily. Her eyes roved over a group of women dancing on the rickety tables.

‘Leave some for us hey ‘Lina?’ Gerard said, sending her a wink.

Charlie smiled as he shared a look with his boss, Mihaela, both thinking that their co-workers should just skip the veela and get to each other. ‘You two are something else,’ he said.

‘Oh sorry Mr High-and-Mighty!’ Gerard shouted. ‘You’re just jealous ‘cos you know you don’t stand a chance.’

‘I just don’t see why every time we go out, you two are always on the prowl.’ Charlie said.

Alina turned back to fake whisper to Mihaela. ‘Charlie’s gone soft. Are you sure he’s alright?’

Mihaela laughed and patted Alina’s shoulder. ‘He’s just finally growing up I think.’ She wiped a fake tear out of her eye. ‘It’s so bittersweet to see them age before your eyes.’

The table erupted in laughter and Charlie couldn’t help but join in. As the night progressed the noise in the tavern only grew, as well as the crowds. At one point, Gerard left their table, straightening his cloak, and joined a group of what had to be nearly ten witches who had congregated on the makeshift dancefloor.

‘Don’t get too carried away, you’re on first call with me tomorrow morning,’ Alina shouted at Charlie as he drained another tankard of beer. Charlie let the glass down with a gasp and wiped his mouth.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘I’ve grown very good at toeing the line, ‘Lina.’

‘Fine.’ She said, a challenging look developing in her eye. ‘Have a row of Ice Tazers with me.’

He narrowed his eyes at her and she merely cocked an eyebrow. He turned his watch and glanced at the time. The clock face swum in his vision for a few seconds before settling into place. It was almost four o’clock in the morning.

‘Too close to the line?’ Charlie lifted his head when Alina spoke again, a wry grin broke out on his face.

‘Not at all,’ he said, and all too soon, somehow Alina conjured a neat little line of four electric blue shot glasses in front of him, an identical set in front of her.

‘Not too late to back out,’ she said, tracing the rim of one of the glasses with a finger.

Charlie smirked and raised one glass to his mouth. ‘Last one finished has to clean out the Ironbelly cage.’ And then he downed the ice-cold liquid, wincing at the taste. No sooner had the first chill left his throat that he started on the next one.

The last thing he remembered that night was the smile that Alina sent him, meeting his challenge.

* * *

‘Merlin’s saggy…’ Charlie woke with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the sun streaming through curtains that he had neglected to close. He tried to swallow some saliva down his dry throat, but his mouth wasn’t so good in that department either, so he gave up and lay in bed, pondering if it was worth getting up for a glass of water.

‘Good morning Charles! ‘Tis a beautiful day! Hark, hear the birdsong a-twitter!’

‘Christ.’ Charlie turned over onto his stomach and threw a pillow over his head, which throbbed from the noise, offered only the smallest relief under the thin pillow. Suddenly, the covers were yanked off his body, and the pillow forcibly removed from his head. He dug his face further into the mattress.

‘Come on, it’s six-thirty I gave you half an hour’s extra sleep, and I have to clean out the Ironbelly cage, so you have nothing to complain about.’

‘How are you functioning?’ he mumbled into the pillow.

‘I’m feeling festive. Could also be the fact that I hadn’t been downing beer the whole night. And the residual vampire genes.’

He felt a poke in his side and turned over, squinting up at Alina. She looked far too happy for his liking; short hair brushed, teeth cleaned and skin bright. He had no doubt that he looked the complete opposite. She walked over to the small bathroom adjoining his room and returned with a glass of water. He sat up quickly, regretting it when his head rushed.

‘Surely you have some hangover potion handy?’ she asked.

He hummed noncommittally, caressing his head as he gulped down the water. Alina looked around his room with her hands on her hips. The lodgings they got were modest, wide enough to fit a bed along one wall, long enough to fit a desk at the other end, with closets in between. A small window offered views onto the Hoia forest, their protection from prying muggle eyes.

‘I’ll go see if Gerard has some potion. Maybe you’ll find some in this mess,’ she gestured to his carefully organised collection of clothes on the floor and papers on his desk. His closet doors were open, spilling out all manner of things from their shelves. For someone who thought he didn’t have a lot of clothes, he managed to spread them quite well.

He moved to the edge of the bed as Alina flounced out of the room, then sunk slowly to the floor, flipping up clothes as he went. He found several shirts and trousers that he had long thought were lost forever. He also had to stop periodically to close his eyes and concentrate on not emptying his stomach on the floor.

‘“Let’s go out Charlie” “It’ll be fun Charlie”,’ he muttered under his breath as he crawled along the floor, approaching his desk, surrounded by a ring of parchment. ‘Am I getting too old for this?’ he questioned.

He scratched around the wooden legs, throwing bits of parchment over his shoulder. A few times he stopped to look at the words on the parchment, hoping he had left himself some instructions on where to find the potion. ‘Come on past Charlie, help me out,’ he said as he unfurled a crumpled bit of parchment. This one was a letter, not a to-do list or silly scrap piece. It was from Ron.

He skimmed over the letter, not remembering what exactly Ron had written to him about recently. His eyes grew wider and wider as he read.

_…really excited to see you…_

_… booked a portkey…_

_…we’ll pick you up on the nineteenth…_

The nineteenth. The nineteenth. Charlie wasn’t exactly sure what day it was, but the odd feeling that had just settled in his stomach couldn’t only be from the Ice Tazers he had downed last night. Well, two hours ago.

‘Hey, ‘Lina,’ he called out, sitting back on the floor and reading over the letter again.

‘You found some?’ she shouted back.

‘What? No, I- what day is it?’ he asked.

‘It’s Monday, Charlie. Sorry about that,’ she said through a laugh. Her voice was louder this time, she was coming back to his room.

‘No, what’s the date?’ he said, a hint of urgency colouring his tone. Alina appeared in the doorway, and he looked up at her as she counted off on her fingers.

‘Nineteenth I believe,’ she said, looking at him nonplussed. She cocked her head however when he swore and started sweeping across the floor, stuffing any and all clothes he could find into his arms. He looked around, searching for his trunk, finally seeing it sitting at the top of his cupboard.

He scrambled around once again, patting down his body and then leaping onto his bed and turning up the covers. ‘Where’s my wand?’ he asked, looking back up at his friend.

Alina moved into his room, holding up her arms. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I have a portkey to catch in- ‘he looked at his watch ‘-an hour. One hour!’ He stretched an arm down between his mattress and the wall, hand grabbing at thin air. He swore again.

‘A portkey! Since when?’ Alina asked.

‘Since five minutes ago,’ Charlie said. ‘Well actually since about two weeks ago when my brother sent this letter.’ He held up the piece of parchment and Alina took it out of his hands, skimming over it quickly.

‘You idiot,’ she said, putting it down.

He waved her off, then stopped, standing in the middle of the room wit his hands on his hips. He steadied himself against the desk and took a deep breath. Portkeys out of Romania were hard to come by, and Ron would kill him if he missed this one. Or Hermione would kill him first. He tried to think back to last night, where on earth his wand was, but everything was so foggy.

‘Here.’ Alina held up a vial and tossed it to him. He caught it just in time, turning the bottle to look at the label.

‘You’re a lifesaver,’ he said, unstopping the vial he emptied the contents into his mouth, sighing as relief immediately flooded his body. Unfortunately, the hangover potion couldn’t uncloud his memory.

‘I can just side-along you to the Portkey Office,’ she offered, but he sent her a despairing look. ‘Ok, it was just a suggestion.’

‘I can’t go back to England without a wand. I’ll be ridiculed into oblivion,’ he said. He heard Alina laugh and mutter something under her breath, but then she walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder.

‘Even though I’m slightly annoyed that this means I’ll have to do all the chores myself this morning, I’m going to help you,’ she said airily. Charlie looked up at her hopefully and she smirked.

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I’m debating if owing you for the rest of my life is worth it.’

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We’re going back to Andrei’s.’

* * *

Andrei’s was a cold and desolate place by day. The street outside was littered with broken bottles and drunks leftover from the night before, leading up to the heavy wooden door that guarded the popular pub. The door was firmly closed when Alina apparated them both in front of it.

‘Merr’ Chrismazz.’ a man sleeping against a streetlamp raised an empty whisky bottle for them, and promptly slumped back against the lamp. Alina knocked hesitantly on the door. ‘S’closed.’ Charlie shot a look the way of the drunk man again, one eye now flickering open.

‘Hey Andrei! It’s your favourite Brit!’ Charlie shouted through the door. Time was rapidly running out. He reckoned he only had half an hour left. He knocked on the door, this time a lot harder. The small metal rectangle at eye level suddenly slid open, and Andrei’s stubbly face appeared at it.

‘What do you want! We’re closed!’

‘I’m looking for my wand, seen any lying around?’ Charlie asked. Andrei eyed the two of them for a second, then grumbled, and the latch slid closed again. They heard a few clicks before the door swung open for them.

‘I fetch lost and found, you look there.’ Andrei said as he walked to the bar. ‘If wand is not there, I do not have wand.’ He bent down and came back up with a cardboard box that clinked as he heaved it onto the counter. He disappeared back upstairs, grumbling something about going back to bed, leaving them alone.

The bar was strange when it was empty. Chairs stuck their legs up, upturned on the tables, and the floor didn’t adhere to the soles of one’s feet, sticky with beer. There was no music and the only light offered came from the high windows that bordered the vaulted ceiling. Their footsteps echoed across the pub as they made their way to the counter and settled on two barstools.

‘You know how they say you should never meet your heroes?’ Alina said, looking uncertainly around the pub.

‘Yeah.’ Charlie delved into the cardboard box, shifting the junk around.

‘I think this applies here. Never see your regular haunts during the day,’ she said.

Charlie laughed. ‘It is kind of creepy,’ he said. He withdrew from the box and held out a pair of lacy knickers. Alina gasped and threw a hand over her mouth.

‘Property of Devin,’ she read. ‘Now that’s creepy.’

‘I’m not one to shame. Whatever grates your cheese,’ Charlie said, throwing the knickers at her. She screamed and dodged them.

‘I can’t believe you even touched those.’

He shrugged and returned to the box. There were a few other questionable items, and even a few wands, but none of them were his. He was reminded keenly again of the time, when he found a wristwatch, miraculously still working, in the box. The hands ticked over to half-past seven as he grasped it. He had been right. Barely any time now. He ran a hand through his hair. Alina pulled the box over to her and peered in, swishing the contents around.

‘None of these are yours?’ she said, holding up a collection of wands.

He shook his head and swivelled on his chair, thinking. He really couldn’t recall much from last night. He was about to turn to Alina to ask her what she could remember when she hopped off the chair and held her arm out for him. ‘Next stop,’ she said.

‘Which is?’ he asked uncertainly, linking his arm with hers.

‘The Ukrainian Ironbelly,’ she said. And before he could question her, or remove his arm, she transported them from the stone floor of Andrei’s pub and squeezed them through the tunnel of time and space that was apparition.

* * *

‘That potion helped but you can’t just apparate like that on me,’ Charlie said, bending over as his feet touched solid ground once more. He took in a deep breath and tried to settle his stomach. He heard a roar behind him and straightened up to see that Alina had landed them right in the middle of the dragon enclosure.

‘Hey! Where have you two been? Pulciver has been whining the whole morning, I had to feed him his newts myself!’ Mihaela was at the end of the arena, closing the iron clad gates to the Horntail pen. Some flames flew out from above the gate and she turned back. ‘Quiet down, you got what you wanted!’

‘Charlie here has lost his wand. And he’s due a portkey home in- ‘Alina grabbed his wrist and looked at the watch ‘-around fifteen minutes.’

‘You think that’s an excuse to get off work?’

Charlie’s eyes bulged. ‘Yes!’

Mihaela rolled her eyes and fiddled with her greying hair, tying it up into a bun. ‘I was wondering when you were going to remember about this,’ she said. ‘Since you applied for leave last week.’

‘Well why didn’t you remind me?’ Charlie said, indignant.

‘I am not a child-minder. I am a dragon-minder. And, I think I know where your wand is.’

Charlie threw his head back. ‘Oh thank Merlin.’

Mihaela shook her head and walked past them towards the Ironbelly’s pen. ‘I wouldn’t be so thankful if I were you.’ She unlatched the gate and heaved the doors outwards. They groaned on their latches, revealing the dank chamber within. Two beady eyes stared out at them. ‘Rhonda here has grown quite fond of it.’

As light spilled into the dragon’s lair, Charlie’s wand was revealed, safely wrapped in the tail of the Ukrainian Ironbelly. The dragon was enormous and had been resident at Charlie’s reserve since he had first started there. An old, wise woman wrapped in scales stronger than any wizard’s metalwork, steely grey in colour with damning red eyes.

‘Oh Rhonda,’ Charlie said, bringing a palm to his face. He frowned. ‘How on earth does Rhonda have my wand?’ he asked, turning to Alina.

‘You don’t remember? We came here after you won our little competition. You danced around a bit while calling me a loser and then threw up,’ Alina said. She walked over to a patch of ground. ‘Here I think.’

‘Okay, we have precious few minutes to get this wand, any ideas?’ He asked, but Alina was already walking away from the enclosure, and Mihaela had disappeared from the area altogether. ‘Where are you going?’ he shouted after Alina.

‘I’ll pack for you! You get the wand!’

He let out a groan. There was no use in her packing if he couldn’t even get the wand. He turned back to the dragon with his hands on his hips. She was wide awake, watching him closely. If anything, he saw her tail coil even more tightly around his wand.

He tried to recall everything he knew about her breed. Largest dragons by far, but also among the smartest. They understood reasoning and simple commands but were hardly ever interested enough in human affairs to give a damn about them. They fought fiercely for family, and Rhonda had only been with them for so long because she was just about missing an entire wing. A dragon like her would not be restrained under normal circumstances.

‘Okay Rhonda, I need you to listen to me,’ he said, cautiously approaching her massive form, walking into the pen. She lifted her head, her eyes following him keenly, snout twitching as she sniffed the air.

‘That wand is mine,’ he said, pointing towards her tail. She snarled as he gestured towards it, bringing her tail closer to her body. Charlie cringed and stopped walking, coming to a standstill.

He opened his hands in a submissive position. ‘Why do you want the wand? I’ll get you something just as good.’

She became restless, scales shifting against the ground. Her red eyes pierced him for a moment, but then she looked towards her food trough, head turning slowly. Her tail lifted and Charlie struggled not to back away, highly aware of what a tail of her size could do to a wizard of his size at this range.

Her dextrous tail moved until it reached the food trough, wand poised above the metal container. Charlie took a breath. He hadn’t blinked in what felt like an age. The tail lifted, then struck down and the wand made contact with the trough. A resounding twang echoed throughout the pen and Rhonda made a satisfied rumble.

Charlie almost laughed, he looked at the dragon in disbelief as she struck the wand against the metal drum once more, a sort of tune started to form, though he found himself feeling the headache of the morning returning. Rhonda looked to him with shining eyes and he nodded. ‘That’s great!’ Her rumbling sounded out again.

‘A stick, I just need a stick.’ He looked around the ground, which comprised only of scuffed dirt and patches of grass. He cautiously turned around, and, looking over his shoulder periodically, he made his way back out of the enclosure.

‘You got it?’ Alina asked. She was standing with his trunk at her side, hands resting easily in her overall pockets.

‘I need a stick!’ he said.

‘Yeah, I know-’

‘No, like a twig, branch, like a wand!’

‘You think she’ll do swopsies?’ she asked. Charlie nodded, retreating into the forest that surrounded the enclosure. It seemed all twigs slightly resembling a wand had ceased to exist. He heard the crack of apparition behind him and turned to see that Alina had disappeared. Not a moment later she reappeared, swivelling her head around until her eyes landed on him.

‘Here!’ she shouted, holding out a wand to him.

‘Whose is that?’ he asked, running up to her.

‘Lost and found,’ she imitated Andrei’s voice. ‘Now get in there, you’re running out of time!’

Charlie grabbed the wand out of Alina’s hand and dashed back into the Ironbelly’s pen. Her little symphony was still echoing throughout the chamber.

‘Hey Rhonda! Look here!’

The dragon paused, snarling at him as he held up the wand. Her eyes locked in on the it however, and she slinked towards him cautiously. He lowered the wand, holding it out in front of him. He could feel her breath on his skin, warm and foul-smelling. She completely forgot about the wand currently held in her tail and dropped it to the floor. Her tail reached out for the lost and found wand slowly, until suddenly the scales coiled around it and yanked it out of his hand. Charlie scrambled for his wand at the floor. ‘Thanks Rhonda!’

He retreated from the pen as slowly as time would allow, and only when he was out in the open did he run to Alina and grab his trunk. He walked a few feet away from her and turned on the spot.

‘Thanks ‘Lina, I owe you one!’

‘Just bring home a tin of your mum’s biscuits, or don’t bother coming back!’ she shouted after him. He sent her one final salute, and then disappeared from the enclosure. He didn’t even know if he had made it on time.

* * *

‘Over here Charlie!’

Charlie emerged from the bustling British Portkey Office into a flurry of sleet, falling from grey clouds. He shielded his face and tried to identify where the voice had come from, until finally he saw a waving hand attached to a person with red hair. He smiled and heaved his trunk over the slippery street.

‘Nothing like home huh?’ Ron said, clapping him on the back as he drew up to his welcoming party. Hermione stood next to Ron, shivering in the cold. She hugged him and shoved a beanie on his head.

‘It’s so nice to see you Charlie,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think that you would’ve anticipated the weather.’

‘Thanks Hermione,’ he said, patting his head. ‘Couldn’t you have held up the weather for me?’

‘Nah you’re not that important,’ Ron said, taking his trunk from his hands and turning down the street.

Charlie laughed and nodded along. He found his shoulders finally relaxing, and he let out a big sigh. What was the time? It was probably not even nine o’clock in the morning and he felt like the day should have ended an hour ago. He supposed he was doing rather well for someone who had woken up with a desert for a mouth and a ball of yarn for a brain. On two hours of sleep at that.

Ron turned back to him with a grin. ‘Rough morning?’ he joked.

Charlie shook his head and looked up to the sky. ‘You have no idea.’


	10. Ten Lords a-Leaping

Harry flicked his wrist over and watched the hands of his watch tick by, unbearably slow in their journey around the watch face. He sighed and lifted his head, witches and wizards in purple robes were still spilling into the courtroom, talking amongst themselves. There was a general air of irritation in the room, a sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with.

‘How long do you reckon until they start going at each other’s throats?’

Harry turned his head as Melody Gwafa, his deputy head, slid into the bench next to him. She straightened the collar of her red robes and then leant back against the bench, making herself at home.

‘I can’t believe we’re actually here. It’s Christmas in two bloody days,’ she continued, gesturing with her hand. Harry shook his head, joining her in leaning back against the bench. He supposed the two of them didn’t paint a very impressive picture.

‘Whatever the lord and lady want, the lord and lady get,’ he muttered. As he spoke, the said nobility pranced into the room, well, more like shuffled due to their considerable age, but they still had that snooty air about them. No hesitation at entering a Wizengamot courtroom.

Their legal teams guided them to their desks and sat down. The old woman sneered across the floor at the old man opposite from her and he returned a rude hand gesture. Harry raised his eyebrows at that, and Gwafa laughed. ‘For all the fuss, at least it’ll be interesting,’ she commented.

‘I’m afraid it might get too interesting,’ he said.

‘Scared of a little old lady, boss?’ Gwafa teased, turning to him with a crooked smile. He rolled his eyes and deigned to reply. One of the last people to enter was a witch with bushy brown hair, who sat directly next to the high seat reserved for the Chief Warlock. Hermione sent Harry a small smile across the room and he returned it. The chamber stewed for a moment, last bits of conversation petering out until silence hung above all of them.

‘All rise for the three-hundredth-and-forty-sixth Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Ernest Macmillan,’ Hermione called across the room. Their old schoolmate walked into the room without grandeur and settled at his podium. He banged his gavel against the hardwood pedestal and started the proceedings.

‘I hereby open case five-thousand-and-ninety-two of the Wizengamot Civil Affairs Department. Buntings versus Van der Linde. I understand your families have a long-held history, and I hope we can reach a satisfactory compromise to your situation,’ Ernie commented, looking down at the defendants. He paused, then returned to routine. 'We proceed with opening statements from both parties. Mrs Buntings, if you could please ask your representative to stand.’

Harry leaned forward in his chair as a young wizard on the far side of the courtroom, representing the witch, stood up. Harry guessed he was not far from Hogwarts age. The Legalman brushed over his robes and fiddled with the shiny buttons at his sleeve.

‘Thank you, Chief Warcock- I mean Warlock,’ the man spluttered. Beside him Gwafa entered a sudden coughing fit, drawing several eyes to her. She looked up at Harry with a raised eyebrow and a grin breaking out on her face. Harry struggled to maintain a straight face, then turned back to look down onto the courtroom floor.

‘Chief Warlock,’ the man said slowly, taking a breath. ‘My name is Youssef Ahmed, and I am here today to tell you that my client is here not for an unpleasant quarrel, but for a long-held dispute to be put to rest.’

Ahmed walked to the side of the room and rolled out a clean chalk board. A wave of his wand conjured what seemed to be a sort of map on the board. Harry leaned his elbows on his knees to inspect it. Gwafa copied him.

‘Honourable Wizengamot members, this is a scaled map of my client’s house, situated next to Mr Van der Linde’s. My client resides on the left- ‘he flicked his wand and a _B_ drew itself over one house ‘-we are here today because of this piece of land.’

A circle appeared around a patch of land bordering the two properties. Part of it protruded onto Van der Linde’s house, and part onto Buntings’.

‘My client would like only for Mr Van der Linde to finally formally acknowledge that this patch of grass belongs to her, and has always belonged to her family. For ten generations in fact.’

‘Always! Your family were turnip pluckers before your father came into money!’ Van der Linde rose from his seat alarmingly quickly, and Harry swore he heard more than a few joints pop from the movement. Buntings responded quicker than lightning, twisting in her chair and shaking her fist.

‘Turnip pluckers? The Buntings have the blood of Merlin flowing through them you dropping of dragon dung! That land is mine!’

Ernie banged his gavel. ‘Settle down, settle down. I won’t have people speaking out of turn!’ he said. Van der Linde reluctantly sat back down in his seat. ‘Mr Ahmed, are you finished with your opening statement?’

Ahmed tugged at his collar. Harry could see a few beads of sweat falling down his neck. ‘Chief Warlock, this coveted land has long been the claim of the Buntings family. Mrs Buntings requests that a formal divide be issued, so that Mr Van der Linde ceases to despoil the ground with his so-named coarse decorations.’

‘Christmas decorations, Chief Warlock!’ Van der Linde threw up his hands.

Ernie leaned forward over his podium, pointing his gavel. ‘Mr Van der Linde, I remind you that you have now spoken out of turn twice. If you wish to stand a fair trial, I advise you respect the order of this courtroom.’

Van der Linde settled back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and muttering under his breath. The Legalwoman next to him leaned over and whispered something in his ear, which he rolled his eyes at.

Ernie surveyed the court for a moment, then nodded at Ahmed, who sat back down, smoothing over his hair. ‘Mr Van der Linde, your representative?’ Ernie asked, gesturing towards the woman sitting next to the old man. She nodded and stood up, heels clacking on the tiles. Harry knew this woman, she had worked with him and Hermione before on various cases. She had also become friends with Hermione, both muggleborns with a passion for transforming the wizarding world. She cast an imposing figure, taller than most men, elegant in her movements.

‘Katherine Gower, Chief Warlock, thank you for opening the floor. This is a simple case ladies and gentlemen. Mrs Buntings has never had any claim over this land, no claim that supersedes that of my client’s at least. My client has always hoped that a friendly agreement could be reached regarding the land, but unfortunately we have landed here,’ she said.

‘Mr Van der Linde has no more patience for a friendly resolution, and so we are here today to appeal for full and legal ownership of this disputed land. For a dropping of the assault charges laid against my client, and for this case to be over so that we can all enjoy a happy Christmas. Thank you.’ She finished with a nod towards Ernie’s podium, then neatly slid back into her chair. Van der Linde looked smug.

‘Ahmed is probably regretting ever pursuing a career in law right now,’ Gwafa leaned over and said. Harry felt for the man, Gower was always polished and professional. She had connections dotted all around the room too. It was going to be a tough run.

‘That brings us to our first order of business. The assault charges levied against Mr Van der Linde. We call to the stand Head of the Auror Department for the DMLE, Mr Harry James Potter, who was first on the scene.’

Harry stood up at his summons and made his way down the steps to the witness box, aware of every eye following him. When he sat down at the box, Ernie spoke again.

‘Please tell us what you witnessed on the night of the twenty-first of December, outside the Bunting and Van der Linde estates.’

Harry cleared his throat. Across the room he saw Gwafa yawn dramatically. ‘I arrived on the scene around half-past seven, apparating as close to the houses as wards would allow. I heard shouting and the sound of spellfire coming from further within the houses so I immediately moved forward to the source. I found Mr Van der Linde and Mrs Bunting on the demonstrated piece of land,’ Harry gestured towards the chalkboard that Ahmed had conjured. ‘I first saw Mrs Bunting fire a stinging hex at Van der Linde, which he avoided. Van der Linde seemed ready to retaliate but I intervened at that point and stopped the duel.’

Harry paused as he saw Mrs Bunting huff dramatically, throwing up her arms. Ahmed was desperately trying to calm her down, which only seemed to be making the situation worse.

‘Once I had gained control of the situation,’ he continued quickly, ‘I noticed a burning Christmas tree lying on the side of land closest to Mr Van der Linde’s house. It was trailed by various other smouldering Christmas decorations. I called in my colleague Melody Gwafa to take in Mr Van der Linde and Mrs Bunting and further inspected the scene for a few minutes. There was nothing else of significance, so I left.’

‘Is that your full statement Mr Potter?’ Ernie clarified.

‘Yes, it is my full statement.’

‘Thank you, you may retire to the stands. Your colleague was summoned to this chamber, but I don’t believe her additional testimony is needed.’

Harry nodded as he stepped out of the witness box, and as he made his way back to his seat next to Gwafa, he couldn’t help but smile at her dumbstruck look, anger quickly overtaking it.

‘Bastards!’ she hissed as he sat down. ‘Do they think I have nothing better to do other than sit here and listen to old farts quarrel over their daisies?’

Harry drowned out the proceedings of the courtroom and chuckled, sitting back in his chair. ‘Do you have anything better to do?’

Gwafa sent him an icy look. ‘Don’t play, Potter. What if I had a really important investigation going on at the moment and they were wasting my time for solving crimes?’

Harry raised his hands in surrender. ‘It’s rubbish, I know. You could have used all this time to try and sneak a dungbomb in my office or something.’

‘You’ll get what’s coming to you, you’ll see,’ Gwafa mumbled, resting her chin in her hand morosely.

‘Better get a start on that, Wheezes is crazy the day before Christmas.’

Gwafa sent him a withering look and he finally chose to back off. He returned his attention to the courtroom, eyes landing first on Hermione, who was staring down at the floor with intensity, scribbling away on a piece of parchment. Harry frowned.

‘Have some cheer, for Godric’s sake woman!’ Van der Linde shouted across the room, slamming his hand on the table. They seemed to have entered a heated argument during Harry’s distraction. Ahmed and Gower were trying desperately to calm their clients, and Ernie was poised with his gavel in the air. He seemed to be waiting to see how the argument played out.

‘I don’t need cheer! I need my own damn land back!’ Buntings threw back.

‘Kind of reminds you of scrooge doesn’t it?’ Harry said to Gwafa. She sent him a funny look and he sighed then waved his hands. ‘A muggle thing.’ He said.

‘You really are the weirdest wizard I’ve ever met.’

‘Aren’t you lucky,’ Harry said.

‘I’ve been tending that garden for longer than you’ve ever been aware that it exists!’ Van der Linde said. ‘As soon as it started looking nice you suddenly had to be all over it.’ The old man got a bit too enthusiastic and ended his rant with a rather violent coughing fit. His tartan cap almost fell off his greying head. The chamber was just about frozen at the spectacle, not sure of what to do.

‘I made it look nice! I nurtured Gardenias almost out of nowhere, they popped up one day and became what they are now with my love and nurturing,’ Buntings said pompously, lifting her nose in the air.

‘Gardenias?’ Van der Linde suddenly changed tone. ‘I planted those Gardenias, I raised them to what they are today!’

Buntings spluttered. ‘You most certainly did not! I gave them potion every two days, watered them every three. For the past twenty years.’

Van der Linde was quiet for a moment. ‘Which days did you give them potion?’ he asked.

Harry looked back at Gwafa and mouthed. ‘What is happening?’ to her. She kicked her feet up on the railing in front of them and shrugged. She looked thoroughly miffed that she was still sitting inside a ministry courtroom.

‘Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.’ Buntings replied cautiously.

Van der Linde sent the woman a funny look.

‘I gave them potions on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.’

Buntings' eyes bulged and she gasped. ‘You mean-‘ she started.

‘Yes!’ Van der Linde finished. ‘We’ve been tending a garden together for almost the whole of our lives!’ he cackled.

‘So the primroses, the thyme, the pansies,’ she spluttered, as Van der Linde nodded. ‘The rose garden, oh Merlin!’ she threw a hand over her eyes dramatically. ‘It wasn’t all because of me!’ she said desperately.

‘They were because of us, Joan,’ Van der Linde said. Buntings was still looking at him with distraught painted on her face. Ernie had all but abandoned any thought of his gavel, and was leaning down on his podium, looking down at the couple with interest.

‘What are we doing here?’ Van der Linde asked, looking at Buntings.

‘What do you mean?’ Buntings screeched, throwing her hands up.

‘I mean we weren’t always like this. We don’t have to be like this. Don’t you remember how we used to be, before we dragged each other into ministry chambers?’ Van der Linde gestured around the courtroom.

‘Oh Vincent, but that was all so long ago,’ Buntings said.

‘Exactly! It was all so long ago, and we’ve wasted so much time with this stupid fight between us. We inherited our parents fight, Joan, but we can end it.’

Harry shook his head and tried his luck with Gwafa once again, nudging her shoulder. She looked back at him. ‘Romeo and Juliet?’ he asked. She shook her head and muttered under her breath.

‘Muggles have some story for everything.’

‘You mean… we share the garden?’ Buntings asked hesitantly. Ahmed was now leaning on the table, a dreamy look on his face. Katherine Gower across from him simply seemed bored.

‘We’ve been sharing the garden for years, already,’ Van der Linde said. He rose from his chair and shuffled laboriously over to Buntings’ table. He took a further few minutes to kneel at his counterpart’s side. ‘Let’s end this on our own terms,’ he said. ‘We don’t need all this.’

Buntings looked at him for a minute, then reached out a hand and clasped his wrinkled fingers in her own. She shook their hands together, and a smile broke out on her face, a sight Harry had certainly not expected to see at the beginning of this trial. In all honestly this trial had certainly turned out interesting, but in an entirely different way to what he had anticipated.

‘I’d like to drop the assault charges against Vincent!’ Buntings shouted across the room. ‘And I’d like to request the whole trial dropped.’

Harry heard Gwafa swear, accompanied by more than a few grumblings across the entire chamber. Wizards and Witches were rolling their eyes, packing up their things and shrugging on their coats. A waste of a trial. Two days before Christmas. Harry could only laugh.

‘Please may all defendants return to their seats,’ Ernie interrupted the babble with the banging of his gavel. Van der Linde once again undertook the tiring task of returning to his seat. Harry observed him lean over to whisper into Katherine’s ear, and the two shook hands.

‘On final agreement of the two defendants present, I will call this trial to a close and consider the matters dealt within resolved in the eyes of the law, and to be pursued personally. Mrs Buntings?’

‘I agree,’ the old witch said, looking sheepishly at Van der Linde across the room.

‘Mr Van der Linde?’

‘I agree,’ he said, returning her gaze with a soft smile.

Ernie banged his gavel for the final time. ‘I hereby call this the five-thousandth-and-ninety-second Wizengamot Civil Affairs case to a close. Have a good Holiday season everyone.’

The chamber erupted in earnest, a group of pureblood men leapt to their feet, rushing to the door and gossiping amongst one another, many other witches and wizards joined them, eager to get last minute shopping done or see friends and family. Harry made eye-contact with Hermione across the room, and she motioned outside. They were due to meet at Ashden run for dinner.

As they exited the chamber, Harry turned to Gwafa, who still seemed positively sour. ‘I know I was joking in there but is there something really big on today that you’re missing?’ he asked.

‘Nothing major, I suppose.’ She said. ‘You know my sister always comes this time of year though, she arrived yesterday and so far I’ve not spent more than two hours with her.’

‘That’s a pretty good reason to be upset, I reckon,’ he said. ‘I don’t understand why they summoned you in the first place.’

‘Don’t start pitying me now, boss,’ she said, shoving him in the shoulder.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Harry said. ‘How long is your sister here for?’

‘She goes back to Botswana in two weeks, so I really shouldn’t be complaining.’

‘Well, one of the best things about being deputy head is that you can delegate a lot,’ Harry started. ‘So don’t work too hard. Yeah?’

She nodded at him and slapped him on the back. ‘I’ll try my best,’ she said as they emerged from the dark recesses of level ten. They were one of the last out of the courtrooms, accompanied by only one other wizard as the metal grate of the lift shut on them. The machinery whirred as they moved to the side and then up, screeching to a halt not long after. The atrium was buzzing with activity, the workday was all but null and void so close to Christmas day. Harry spotted Hermione chatting to Katherine near the fluid obelisk that centred the room.

‘You ever think about how we take so many things in our stride that no one else would?’

‘I’m very much used to it at this point Melody,’ Harry replied, stopping and turning to face her. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then agreed.

‘I suppose it was a stupid question.’

Harry waved her off. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at her seriously. ‘You better not come into work for at least a week now,’ he said.

Gwafa rolled her eyes, then patted him on the shoulder. ‘Trust me, you won’t be hearing from me. Have a good Christmas, boss, say hi to the brood for me.’ She moved past him towards the floos, striding down the atrium without hesitation, cutting through the crowds. Harry made his way over to Hermione and Katherine, who were now peering at something across the fountain, towards the canteen.

‘It’s definitely one for the books,’ Katherine remarked as Harry drew up next to them. He sunk to their level and squinted at the huddle of witches and wizards seated at the plastic tables. Right in his line of sight sat Mr Van der Linde and Mrs Buntings, bonding over a generous helping of Christmas pudding. They looked positively soppy for one another.

‘Quite a nice way to finish off the working year, don’t you think?’ Harry said. The two witches turned around at his intrusion. Katherine scoffed and threw her scarf over her neck.

‘It may be the end of the working year for you, Mr Potter. I still have three ongoing lawsuits.’

‘And you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?’ Hermione remarked, looking at her friend with a raised eyebrow. Katherine shrugged airily, not willing to confirm what they all knew was true.

‘Speaking of which, I need to get going. I think I can manage a run before the evenings paperwork now,’ she wondered out loud. ‘Merry Christmas Harry,’ she said, kissing him on both cheeks. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ she turned to Hermione.

‘Nine o’clock sharp,’ Hermione said. Katherine greeted her in the same way and then clacked away from them, hips sashaying confidently. Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

‘Work tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Not even an hour,’ she confirmed, guiding them towards the floo. ‘She wants me to check over some things.’

‘You’re telling Ron,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘Ron already knows. He’s scheduled himself to help George in the shop tomorrow, so I’ll be the lonely one.’

‘Busy Christmas Eve Eve you’re planning.’

They drew up to the fireplaces and Harry stepped back to let Hermione through first. She clutched her papers to her chest and gave him a disdainful look.

‘We’ll be at the Burrow by five o’clock latest, don’t you worry Harry,’ she said. ‘Christmas Eve Eve is a thing you made up anyway’.

Harry pointed a finger at her threateningly, then threw some floo powder on the ground for her, green flames erupting at her feet. ‘Ashden run!’ she shouted, and then she disappeared from the ministry. Harry soon replaced her, stepping into the hearth. He clutched some powder in his hand.

Before he threw it down however, he again sought out the old couple who had so strangely come together in the courtroom. They were still at the canteen table, smiling at one another. He laughed to himself and shook his head, then threw the floo in and followed Hermione home.


	11. Eleven Pipers Piping

Verity stepped up behind the cash register and made sure that all was in order, readying herself for the chaos awaiting her. The day before Christmas Eve was always one of their busiest, full of witches and wizards vying for last minute gifts. She made sure the coin canisters were empty, that the quick notes quill for receipts was poised for action and that every item on display was in mint condition.

Taking a moment to centre herself before the rush started, she leaned against the counter and looked through the shop window. The streets of Diagon Alley were painted white, powdered with a fine layer of snow. There were only a few witches and wizards walking about, the hour still rather early.

A group appeared from around the corner and stopped outside Wheezes, bundled tightly against the snow. George had said that his brother Ron was coming in to help today. He stood outside with his wife, bending down and talking to his children. Verity couldn’t see exactly from here, but he appeared to be instructing them on something. Ron reached forwards and scuffed his boy’s hair.

In a development that always seemed to shock her, the group was soon joined by another man with unruly back hair and glasses. Ron straightened up to say something to his friend, prompting Harry to punch him lightly on the arm. Verity smiled slightly at the sight. Hermione eventually leaned forward and kissed her husband, she leaned down and embraced her children, then hugged Harry and trudged back up Diagon Alley. Harry grasped the hands of his niece and nephew, said something that made Ron laugh and then disappeared down the opposite direction of the street.

‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!’ Ron bellowed as he entered the shop, throwing off his coat. Verity’s eyes lit up at the sound of the muggle song.

‘Everywhere you go!’ she responded cheerfully.

Ron smiled widely and clapped his hands together, coming towards the cash register. ‘There’s the spirit! Hermione taught me that one and I just can’t get it out of my head.’

‘It’s a classic,’ Verity said knowingly.

‘She hasn’t taken as much to my Christmas favourites,’ Ron said, shaking his head.

Before Verity could respond, George appeared from the managers room in the back, followed by Angelina. ‘That’s because there are no good wizarding Christmas songs. I’d argue that there aren’t any muggle ones either,’ he said.

‘You’re just tired from listening to them all day,’ Ron said, turning to greet his brother and sister-in-law.

Verity tuned out their conversation as she moved away from the cash register, towards the shop window displays. She double checked the boxes of limited edition dung bombs, replaced a seeing eyeball that had a scratch on the front and straightened the mannequin that was showing off an instant-ageing hat.

More people were flowing past the windows now, chattering excitedly. Many of them stopped right outside Wheezes, children jumped excitedly and tugged at their parent’s hands. Verity waved at a few of them, and tapped an imaginary watch at her wrist, signalling opening time was still approaching.

‘Verity!’ her name was called from across the room and she appeared from behind a life-size display of a snowman.

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s five to, I reckon we might as well open the doors now.’ George suggested.

‘I’m on it,’ she said. She straightened her name tag, twisted her ponytail with her finger and strode over to the doors. She paused for effect, then threw the doors open, making sure to quickly step out of the way. The hustle and bustle from the street entered the shop, immediately filling the place with a lively chorus of chatter. She saw George’s eyes light up, and his hands flourish as he started to show people around the shop.

‘My brother is here today, you know, the one married to Hermione Granger,’ George threw out casually. A select few in the crowd gasped, looking around eagerly. Verity shook her head, laughing to herself. Moving further into the shop she saw Ron soon surrounded by a group of shoppers. Though he was trying to look bashful, she thought he looked rather pleased with the attention.

She weaved through the sea of coats and scarves; colours of all kinds clouding her vision. Finally, she reached the somewhat raised staged where the till resided, and stepped onto it, breathing a sigh of relief. Angelina appeared from the crowd too, settling next to her.

‘And so it begins,’ Angelina said, nudging Verity.

‘You here to help out today too?’ Verity asked.

‘Moral support, I suppose. There’s nothing for me to do at work, so I figured I might as well see what I can do here. Any suggestions?’

‘Not yet. But some crisis will pop up soon enough and then there’ll be more than enough work to go around.’ Verity smiled at Angelina, then turned to face the first customers already lining up in front of her. These were the witches and wizards who had most likely consulted the catalogue and zeroed in on exactly what they needed. They were also, most often, the witches and wizards who didn’t have children with them.

‘Have a lovely festive season,’ Verity said with a smile as she handed a bag off to the last in the string of early leavers. Angelina leaned against the counter, throwing a miniature quaffle in the air.

‘What are you doing for Christmas this year then?’ she asked.

‘Having my parents over for lunch. It’s the first time they’ll be spending Christmas with Lewis actually. I’m rather nervous.’ Verity said.

‘Ooh! Impressing the parents,’ Angelina wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Don’t worry, it can’t be as intimidating as being with this lot.’ Angelina jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to Ron and George, who were putting on some show to convince a gaggle of customers that they needed the new pygmy puff Christmas hat collection.

Verity laughed. ‘I saw that article in Witch Weekly,’ she said.

‘Hm?’ Angelina asked absently, focussing on the quaffle.

‘You know, the one that talked about your family traditions, and things to do and not to do if you get invited round for Christmas dinner at the Burrow.’

Angelina rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly. That thing was pure trollop, and you know that.’

Verity made a face. ‘I’m not sure, Ang. You’re a scary lot,’ she joked.

Angelina faked looking offended and was on the cusp of a retort when a loud crash was heard across the room. They both whirled around to see limbs and boxes tangled on the floor where Ron and George had been. Angelina looked back at Verity. ‘I’ll help that lot. You seem to have some customers on your doorstep.’

Verity turned to see that the second wave was queuing at the tills. She rung the bell and allowed the first witch forward. As she tallied up the items she thought about Angelina’s comment, that it was indeed intimidating entering the Weasley-Potter horde.

She had known George, and by extension many members of his family for close to fifteen years, and she still got a shock when she saw Harry Potter waltz into the shop as if it was a normal Tuesday. Usually, it was a normal Tuesday, but she wondered if Harry Potter ever had normal days. How could he?

She’d always felt quite lucky for the position she had managed to secure at Wheezes, one that she felt was quite coveted. She had asked for a few reasonable favours over the years, help with sorting out a fair release package for her mother at the ministry or inside communication with the goblins at Gringotts. She had never abused them, but there was a reason a lot of her friends often came to her for advice, asking if she could help them.

She smiled to herself as she thought about the nickname she had garnered ever since her friends had found out just how close she was to the Weasleys. "VIP Verity" was often referred to with a shaking head and followed by a proclamation about how life was unfair.

She had asked her boyfriend, Lewis, once, after a night at the pub with their friends where she had announced that she had secured a meeting with the head of International Magical Co-operation for Frieda, one of her schoolmates.

_‘Do you think they really are jealous?’_

_‘Of VIP Verity? Undoubtedly so. But they also love you for it.’_

She had even been approached by multiple reporters, asking for an inside scoop into the life of George Weasley. She had never given them a word. She owed a lot to the Weasleys. They had never done anything to make her feel uncomfortable or out of place. Truth be told, she doubted she had any information of the sort that the reporters were looking for.

When she had come out of school, the sudden reality that she needed to get a job had hit her with surprising force, especially since she was no longer at Hogwarts where feasts and warm beds were guaranteed every night. Her family had never been on the streets, but when the war had started to simmer on the seams of wizarding society, being the daughter of a muggleborn had not made for easy living. Fred and George had, for some reason, hired her right out the gates, and she still thought about where she might have been now if they hadn’t.

Before she knew it, all the customers had been rung up. Her musing had left her operating on routine. She looked back to the chaos that Angelina had headed to, and the situation seemed to have been properly dealt with. The shop was now buzzing with activity, all the aisles were full, to the point where it was difficult to move between them.

She spotted Ron and George as they walked down the shop towards the deeper shelves. The two of them were tall, easily identified with their red hair against the crowds. Angelina was nowhere to be seen.

‘Hi there, I was hoping you could help me find the giggling potions?’ A woman stepped up the to till.

'Our potions are located in the last aisle, ma’am. Giggling potions are on the third shelf up from the floor.’ Verity answered easily, indicating the correct place. The woman nodded, dragging a small boy behind her. Verity watched the boys antics with amusement, crossing her arms over her chest.

Lewis talked about children a lot. She had been dating him for close to two years now. He would mention them in an off the hand type of way, the type of way that always caused a flutter in her stomach, because when he spoke it seemed as if he already planned to have them with her, and he didn’t mind if she knew it.

And they’d talked seriously about it a little bit. She wasn’t opposed to the idea. She had been at one point- thinking that children were a responsibility she didn’t want. But the more she saw little toddlers, hiding behind their mum’s legs, or sleeping on their dad’s shoulders, the more she reconsidered.

And there had never been any shortage of those type of displays, working at Wheezes. There was always someone sweeping in with a child in tow, handing them off or taking more on. She had been one of the first witches, besides family, to see Harry Potter’s first child, James. She remembered the incident vividly. Perhaps because of all the preconceptions she had constructed of Harry Potter, she had never cleared space for how she expected him to be as a parent. And so when she had seen it first-hand, the sight had been, stupidly, unexpected.

_‘Harry, we really do have to go now,’ Ginny placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Verity noted the ring that adorned that one very important finger. A simple gold band. A band that had been slipped on that finger no more than a year ago._

_Verity was trying her best to act nonchalant, wiping down the Peruvian powder displays, but she couldn’t help but peek through the shelves, watching the newlywed couple. Harry was cradling their baby in his arms, a finger of his presumably clutched in the babies first, from the position of his arm. It was such a tender image, Verity simultaneously wanted to look away and look forever._

_‘Come on mate, we’ll take good care of him.’ Verity heard George’s voice._

_Harry mumbled something in reply, and she saw Ginny move her hand to the back of his neck, running her hand through the hair there._

_It was strange. Harry had been two years below her at Hogwarts, Ginny three, and here they were already married and a kid in hand. Meanwhile, she had picked up a bloke at the pub last night and had a reasonably fun night with him, waking up in the morning feeling content as ever._

_She supposed living the life that Harry did, one really got down to doing what they wanted to do. And perhaps had a better understanding of what that was than most people their age._

_‘Verity?’ George suddenly called._

_Verity almost vanished herself in a cloud of black powder, fumbling with the Peruvian kit before placing it carefully on its display. She emerged from the shelves, raising her eyebrows as if she had no idea that Harry and Ginny had ever been here._

_George, seeming to sense her ruse, looked at her with a gleam in his eye. ‘Will you be able to close up today? Early, as well, I think.’_

_‘Sure,’ Verity affirmed._

_‘Would you like to meet my nephew?’ George asked._

_Verity’s eyes slid over to the couple still standing in the middle of the shop. She stammered for a moment before Ginny beckoned her forward._

_‘He’s just a ball of wrinkles so far really, but he has a very gummy smile,’ Ginny said. Verity laughed at the assessment and cautiously approached them, until she could peer into the bundle of blankets._

_The baby was indeed clutching his father’s hand. He had small tufts of auburn hair already growing on his head, and a few light freckles were dusted across his face and shoulders. Verity had been expecting worse._

_‘His name is James,’ Harry said, and she lifted her head to face him, a small smile on his face. She ran a finger lightly across the baby’s cheek._

_‘He’s very cute,’ she said politely, then she stood back. ‘Congratulations.’_

_A bright smile lit up Harry’s face and he looked at the baby a moment longer, before turning his gaze onto Ginny. She beamed back at him and Verity felt again that she was perhaps intruding. She had never seen a collection of people so glowing, so bright and shining._

‘Excuse me!’

Verity shook her head. A man at the front of the queue was staring at her with a reddened face, laden with bags. She ushered him forward, apologising profusely. He merely grumbled under his breath and laid down his items.

Verity managed to focus on her job for the next few hours. She wondered at one point if she had accidentally taken in some daydream potion or the other. Though she admitted she was an easily distracted person. Why her brain had decided to replay her memory of meeting Harry and Ginny’s first child escaped her. Perhaps she was more nervous for her lunch with Lewis and her parents than she thought.

The workload reached a peak just after lunch, but then slowly petered out after that. The sun sunk lower and lower in the sky, bringing to the streets of Diagon Alley a honeyed hue, complimenting the garlands and ribbons that were streamed across streetlamps and building faces.

Verity was demonstrating the mechanics of a detailed erumpent statue when Ron and George emerged from the shelves, talking to one another.

‘I told you we were going to be late,’ Ron said to his brother, shaking his head.

George checked his watch. ‘It’s half an hour over. We still have a half full shop and we sent an owl.’

‘Well then you’re answering to mum when we get home.’ Ron said. Verity, who couldn’t help overhearing, handed over the erumpent statue to an eager child and walked over to George.

‘I can lock up, you know,’ she suggested.

‘It’s fine, were almost done and it’s the last day.’ George waved her off, but Ron sent him a serious look. Angelina emerged then from the deeper aisles of the shop. She was slinging a bag over her shoulder and had her hat and scarf on. She looked at the two men with a quirked eyebrow.

‘I think Verity is very capable of closing the shop, George. I also seem to remember you promising Hermione that you wouldn’t keep Ron.’

George spluttered, but Angelina interrupted him, pointing to the sign held above the entrance of the shop. It outlined their operating hours. ‘Christmas Eve; six-thirty,’ she recited. ‘It’s almost seven-thirty.’

George held a staring contrast with Angelina for a moment, then sighed and turned to Verity. ‘I hate to leave you alone though,’ he said. ‘It’s Christmas.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Verity said. Which she really would. She had been stuck in her head most of the day, anyway, being on her own would not make much of a difference.

Angelina had already gathered George’s things, and she slung his scarf around his neck, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. She turned to Verity and gave her a big hug. ‘I’m sure your Christmas will go wonderfully. We’ll see you soon, yeah?’

‘Of course.’ Verity replied.

George and Ron embraced her in tight hugs too, wishing her a merry Christmas. She had to practically shoo them out of the shop, George kept turning around or finding last minute customers to help. A marching band, consisting of must have been close to ten pipers, paused their exit momentarily, blaring down the main street of Diagon Alley.

‘Have a good Christmas!’ she shouted as the trio finally retreated from the shop. George turned around and feigned being dragged by Angelina, who was clasping his hand. Verity laughed at the sight then turned back to the store. It still looked breath-taking. The lamps and strings of lights that adorned the ceiling were lit up, casting every aisle in a happy glow. For a shop that should have closed nearly an hour ago, there were still a few customers left.

She cast a sonorous charm. ‘Please note that Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes will only be open for half an hour longer, please finish up your shopping.’ Glancing back at the cash register, where no one was yet queuing, she made for the manager’s room, which contained a floo. Kneeling at the hearth she threw in some powder.

‘6B Finchouse Mews,’ she called out. Green flames crackled around her and she stuck her head into the fire.

‘Lewis?’ she called. She waited a second, and was about to call again, when the creak of footsteps indicated someone’s approach. Lewis appeared from around the corner, a pan in his hand and a cloth over his shoulder.

‘V? Are you on your way home?’

She smiled at him. ‘Not just yet, about half an hour to go. Are you making dinner?’

‘I was about to start,’ he said.

‘I wouldn’t mind some company while I close,’ she said. ‘I sent George home.’

Lewis raised an eyebrow and came closer to the fire. ‘You sent him home? I suppose I can spare the time,’ he said. ‘I’ll just put this stuff down.’ He disappeared from view, back into the kitchen.

Verity smiled to herself and got up from the floor. She headed to the managers door, craning her neck to see the last customers were finally queuing up. There was a family at the front of the line. A father with his daughter in his arms, cheek rested on his shoulder. He stood close to a woman holding the hand of a young boy.

‘What can I do?’ A hand came to her shoulder and she turned around to face Lewis standing behind her.

‘Can you make sure there aren’t any stragglers?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ he left, not without placing a quick kiss on her cheek. She made her way to the till, beckoning the family at the front forward. The man smiled at her and brought a hand to his daughters back.

‘Sorry about the late hour. Very good of you to stay open.’

Verity waved him off, smiling fondly at the sight. ‘It’s no problem sir, no problem at all.’


	12. Twelve Drummers Drumming

‘I don’t think I can last out here much longer,’ Hermione spluttered, dodging behind a tree as a snowball whizzed past her head. She breathed in deeply, leaning against the tree. She couldn’t see much ahead of her, on account of the dark, however the stars in the sky offered them ample light for a snow fight.

‘I’m going to pretend that I didn’t just hear you say that.’ She heard Ron’s voice call out from closer to the Burrow and rolled her eyes. She cautiously peered out from behind the tree, scanning for any signs of movement. She spotted Rose crouching behind a wall of snow, a few metres ahead of her.

‘I’m wet and cold,’ Hermione protested again, looking down at her hands with disdain. Her woolly gloves were absolutely soaked through, and, at her children’s insistence, no magic had been allowed in this fight. She would be getting the cold shoulder all week if they spotted her with her wand out.

‘That’s generally what snow does.’ Ron’s voice sounded a bit closer this time.

‘Just a bit longer Aunt Hermione!’

She smiled at the sound of Louis’ voice, replacing the frown that Ron’s retort had first placed on her face. She bent down to gather some snow in her hands, rolling it while grumbling under her breath. How Ron had convinced her to come out with the kids after dinner, she didn’t understand. Usually Harry and Ginny got roped into these types of things.

‘Just because you’re so smart, Ron- ‘

‘-Kind words. ‘He interrupted her. He was definitely getting closer.

‘Yes well. Just because you’re so smart, if I hit you with a snowball next, we’re calling it quits.’

‘Did you hear that, kids? Aunt Hermione is placing the future of our marriage on the fate of a snowball.’

Hermione scoffed. ‘Not our marriage! This game.’ She said. She tested the weight of the snowball in her hands. It was perfect, round and smooth in shape, just glassy enough to hurt on impact. She heard a few of the older children laugh, the younger ones not following the conversation.

‘Well, I’m waiting then.’ Ron’s playful voice came. She whipped her head around this time, because it sounded so close, as if he had been standing just behind her shoulder. She smiled despite herself and bit the inside of her cheek. The seconds ticked by, tension building within her. She stared at the ground, listening intently.

The crack of a twig signalled her cue, and she spun out from the tree, arm raised and eyes darting around in the darkness. She didn’t have to look for long however, as Ron was standing right in front of her, mirroring her stance, a snowball in his hand. He grinned at her and she narrowed her eyes at him.

‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked.

‘What are you waiting for?’ she repeated, watching him closely. Then, without hesitation she slung the snowball at him, hitting him square in the chest. He looked down at the wet mark it left, mouth open.

‘Uncle Ron!’ James emerged from the thicket of trees Hermione had just been in. ‘Why’d you let her do that! Now we can’t play!’

Hermione smirked while Ron gathered himself, brushing the snow off his coat. He was laughing now, looking at her with shining eyes. She was still wary however, the snowball remained firmly grasped in his hand.

‘What happened?’ another voice came from the night. Fred, Hermione thought.

‘Can you put up some light, Hermione?’ Teddy’s voice floated over. ‘If you don’t want us to know your hiding places, come out of them now,’ he continued.

Hermione drew out her wand and raised it in an arc over her head. An array of twinkling white lights spread themselves above their heads, hovering like fireflies stuck in honey. They illuminated the back garden of the Burrow, casting the white snow into sharp relief. In truth, the lawn looked more like a battlefield, with strategic piles of snowballs and barricades placed throughout.

Hermione’s two children and many nieces and nephews were dotted across the field, some frowning in confusion, still holding snowballs.

‘For the record, you can still play without us. We can give you a few jars of lights for when you need to see,’ Ron clarified. He turned to Hermione and threw his arms up, letting his snowball fall to the ground. ‘You got me,’ he said with a sigh.

‘I did. Sorry about that.’ Hermione said, not sounding sorry at all. Ron held out his hand to her and she took it, coming to stand beside him.

‘I’m quite glad you did.’ He bent down to whisper in her ear. ‘I can’t feel my toes.’

‘Are you saying you let me hit you?’ she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

‘Not at all. I never expected you to be so ruthless, actually.’

‘Are you going to go?’ Rose shouted, interrupting them. She was building a nice pile of snowballs, wasting no time in getting an advantage over her cousins. Hermione laughed.

‘We are going,’ she said. ‘And that’s no way to speak to your parents.’

Rose sent her a sheepish smile, and Hermione couldn’t help but return a smile of her own. She took Ron’s hand and led them out of the battle-zone, not without first conjuring three jars of the same lights suspended in the air and placing them at the boundary. With a flick of her wand she plunged the lawn back into darkness.

‘Battle begins in five, four, three...’ Teddy’s voice drowned out as Ron and Hermione exited the chaos, jostling each other in the snow. Hermione almost fell over at one point and Ron had to drag her up, both of them laughing.

‘Where are you hiding the firewhiskey then?’ Ron joked as they reached the kitchen door. Hermione shook her head at him, leaning against the wall to knock snow off her boots.

‘I’m just unbalanced,’ she said, opening the door to the kitchen. A wave of warmth rushed over her and she luxuriated in it, feeling the heat reach from her toes to her fingers, to the tip of her nose.

‘You’re the most balanced person I know,’ Ron said.

Hemione sent him a look over her shoulder, stepping further into the kitchen. There were dishes in the sink, washing themselves in soapy water, and remnants of their simple Christmas Eve dinner remained on the kitchen table for anyone to pick at. Ron immediately made his way to the cheese and biscuits, loading a few onto a plate.

‘Worked up an appetite?’ Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him. She leaned toward the living room door, hearing voices of the rest of the family behind it.

‘Always,’ Ron responded with a mouthful of food. Hermione tapped the side of her mouth, indicating to him that he had crumbs. He rubbed his face and looked at her questioningly.

‘All gone,’ she said, opening the door. She saw Ron grab two more crackers and then he joined her, stepping into the even warmer living room, fire dancing happily in the hearth. The whole family had finally gathered under one roof, all sleeping over at the Burrow for Christmas Eve, and they were lounging on sofas and armchairs, enjoying a drink after dinner.

Ron pretended to cover his ears with his hands. ‘Merlin, how many drummers did Celestina need to record this?’ he asked. The singer on the wireless crooned in the corner.

Hermione found a spot next to Audrey and Percy on the couch and sat down, rubbing her hands together. She watched in amusement as her husband was admonished by his mother.

‘Celestina has as many drummers as she needed Ron,’ Molly said.

‘I reckon at least twelve,’ George said, popping his head up from where he had been scrutinising some device that his father held in his hand.

‘Are the kids coming in too?’ Audrey asked, looking at Hermione.

‘They’re still playing, though I don’t suspect for long. It’s freezing out there.’

Audrey’s eyebrows knitted together. ‘I hope they don’t catch cold.’

‘The charms should keep anything like that from happening,’ Hermione said, explaining the spell that she had constructed over the entire lawn that ensured temperatures would not fall to dire levels. As she finished talking, Ron plopped down next her, making for a rather squished fit. She leaned into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder. He squeezed her leg.

‘Let me tell you all about the very honourable way that Hermione bowed out of our competition…’

Hermione smiled at Ron’s enthusiasm. Molly, Audrey and Percy leaned in to listen to his story, but George and Arthur across the room remained preoccupied, as well as Harry and Ginny with Bill and Fleur, who were talking to Charlie near the fire.

* * *

‘You just replaced it with another wand?’ Harry asked, incredulous. He leaned back in his chair as Charlie nodded at him, a cocky grin on his face. ‘Well if I had known that, I would’ve just painted a quaffle gold in my fourth year,’ Harry said.

Charlie shook his head. ‘Horntails are possessive creatures, especially with eggs. Plus, despite what people say, they’re not as sharp as Ironbellys.’ He took a sip of his drink, a frothy glass of butterbeer, then wiped his mouth. ‘Rhonda knew that one wand was as good as the other. A stick would’ve worked too.’

‘Poor dragon. Are sticks that hard for her to come by in her little, tiny enclosure?’ Ginny asked.

Charlie rolled his eyes at her. ‘Not at all. I suppose she just played with it this time. Apparently, I handed my wand directly to her.’

‘”Apparently”,’ Ginny scoffed, ‘Must be nice to work a job where you don’t even have to be conscious. Imagine that, Harry.’ Ginny looked at her husband.

‘Must be very nice indeed,’ Harry joined in, teasing Charlie.

‘Sod you all. Just because I don’t have some cushy ministry job doesn’t mean I don’t work hard.’

Harry laughed, and stretched an arm behind Ginny’s shoulders, settling into the couch. ‘Gin doesn’t work for the ministry,’ He said.

‘The Prophet’s just as bad,’ Bill interrupted, standing up. ‘Anyone need a drink?’

Harry shook his head, same as Ginny. But Charlie held up his tumbler for Bill to take. Fleur leaned forward and asked him how the rest of the dragons in Romania were, and Harry took a moment to glance around the living room, wondering where his children were.

‘Seen the kids?’ he asked Ginny, who was staring into the fire.

‘Hm? No, I think I heard Hermione say they were still playing. I feel we may not see them before bed.’

Harry nodded. He supposed Teddy and Victoire would be able to rally them all into the large tent that had been erected outside the Burrow well enough on their own. A collective dorm for all of the grandchildren, complete with a small living room, fire place and plenty of warming charms. Such a structure had been needed if the whole family wanted to wake up together on Christmas morning.

His question had been very timely however, as soon enough, the living room door was opening, and welcoming in child after child. They all had pink noses and red cheeks, but were grinning from ear to ear. Harry smiled at Teddy when he walked in last with Victoire, laughing with her.

‘Dad! James hit me in the ear.’ Lily bounced up to him and climbed onto his lap shaking her head to the side. ‘There’s water in there now,’ she said, frowning.

‘Sorry Lu,’ Harry said, taking her hands in his and warming them up. ‘You do know that snow fights with your brothers can get violent.’

‘I wasn’t even violent, I was just playing properly,’ James said, walking up to them and turning to warm his back at the fire.

Charlie laughed and held his hand up for James to high five. ‘That’s the spirit mate,’ he said. ‘Your mum would never have become such a great chaser if we had treated her like a China doll.’

Ginny spluttered. ‘You never even let me get on a broom!’

‘Details, details,’ Charlie waved her off and James suppressed a laugh. Lily frowned and looked between her uncle and brother, clearly on her mum’s side.

Before Ginny could come back with a retort, Mrs Weasley stood up from her chair. ‘How about some hot cocoa before bed?’ she asked. A resounding chorus of agreement met her question and she smiled, then disappeared into the kitchen. Lily, still on Harry’s lap, yawned and leaned forward to rest her head on his chest, curling into him. Harry brought an arm around her.

‘I think it’s bedtime,’ he said softly to Ginny, who was still glaring at her brother. She turned to him, her eyes softening at the sight of their daughter falling asleep on him.

‘I think that’s why the cocoa is coming. Where’s Albus? We have to say goodnight to him too.’

Harry spotted him at the other end of the room, talking to Percy and Audrey. He seemed to be retelling some grand story to them, hands gesturing wildly, his aunt and uncle smiled at him, nodding along.

‘He’ll come along,’ Harry said. He leaned his head back against the couch, feeling rather sleepy himself, and listened to the chatter around him for a while. Ginny resumed her rather heated conversation with Charlie and James, and Harry’s lips twitched upwards every now and then, amused at some comment made by them. Harry’s breath was just falling into rhythm with Lily’s when he heard the living room door swing open once more, and Mrs Weasley announced that cocoa was ready.

‘I think it’s time we all get to bed too,’ she added.

‘Gra-an,’ Dominique said.

‘Gran nothing, it’s almost eleven and the sooner you get to bed, the sooner Christmas will be here.’

Harry lifted his head off the couch and checked on Lily, now fast asleep. He stood up, keeping her in his arms, and she shifted slightly, but then settled on his shoulder. He joined the troop of children exiting the living room, collecting a mug of cocoa in the kitchen, and then trudging through the cleared path to their tent.

He laid Lily down in a bed, then said goodnight to everyone, and retreated to the house. Judging by the noise that he left behind him, he sincerely doubted that they would all be going to bed now, but that was none of his business. When he walked back into the living room, he found everyone clearing up left over plates and glasses, getting ready to settle down for the night themselves. He spotted Ginny talking to Ron and Hermione, and walked up to them.

‘-I haven’t seen the finished product, actually,’ Ginny was saying.

‘Of what?’ Harry questioned.

‘Mum’s gift,’ Hermione answered. ‘We haven’t wrapped it yet, want to see it?’

‘Yeah, I’d love to,’ he replied. Ron and Hermione led them out of the living room and took them up the stairs to Ron’s old room. The room was much the same as it had been when Harry had first slept in it- Orange with Chudley Cannons merchandise, down to the bed sheets. Two overnight bags were on the enlarged bed, and in between them, a large gift bag.

‘We picked it up this morning. I think we did quite well for ourselves,’ Ron said. He stuck his hand in the bag and withdrew a large picture frame. His arms spread wide to hold it up, displaying it to Harry and Ginny.

Ginny gasped, leaning forward. ‘It’s brilliant,’ she said. Harry agreed, also finding himself inspecting the photo with wonder.

It was an enormous family portrait, featuring every single Weasley child, spouse and grandchild, right down to little Lucy- the youngest cousin. The advantage to wizarding portraits, Harry thought, was that it didn’t matter if anyone had blinked when the camera was shot, because the subjects moved and smiled, not restricted by one frame. James and Fred made the occasional face at the camera, and Teddy cycled through various hair colours. Everyone else was grinning, waving out at Harry and Ginny.

‘It’s great,’ he said.

‘I think she’ll cry.’

Harry turned around to see George standing in the doorway munching on a mince pie. ‘She just might,’ Ginny agreed. ‘Where will this even fit? It’s ginormous.’

‘The photographer said he couldn’t go any smaller, otherwise the quality would’ve been bad, our faces not visible enough.’

‘I like the size, it can go above the fireplace,’ Hermione said thoughtfully.

‘What’s everyone doing up here?’ Mrs Weasley’s voice floated through the doorway and Ron quickly pulled the portrait away from them, frantically searching for a hiding place. He ended up throwing the photograph under the duvet of the bed, then quickly straightening up as his mum’s head poked through the doorway. George, seeming non-plussed, let her in.

‘Nothing. Just saying goodnight.’ Ron said.

Mrs Weasley looked at them all with a raised eyebrow. ‘Okay. You best not stay up too late, we have a busy day tomorrow.’

They all nodded, and a silence fell upon them, before Mrs Weasley threw her hands up. ‘Well, goodnight all,’ she patted Harry on the shoulder, and he smiled at her. ‘I hope you sleep well.’ She exited the room, and Ginny laughed, then took Harry’s hand in her own.

‘I am knackered,’ she said. ‘So I’m saying goodnight too.’

‘Same here,’ Harry said. They hugged everyone goodnight, then met the rest of the family on the stairs, and another round of hugs and “sleep well’s” ensued. They finally crept into Ginny’s old room on the first floor up, and Harry felt the sleepiness that Lily had given to him return. He yawned and almost dropped the pyjamas that Ginny tossed to him, rummaging in their bag.

‘I can’t wait for mum to open it actually,’ Ginny said absently, pulling a on red set of pyjamas with a holly pattern. She rubbed her hands together, then jumped into bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. ‘I always forget how freezing this room is.’ She said.

‘I can cast a charm?’ Harry questioned, sliding on his own pyjama bottoms. Ginny shook her head and held the duvet open.

‘You’re a much cuddlier way of warming up,’ she said. He snorted, but placed his wand on the bedside table, then turned off the lamp and climbed in next to her. He suspected that she had only marginally enlarged her bed, as they fit snugly together. Ginny moved closer to him, throwing a leg over his waist. He swore as she ran ice cold toes up his thigh.

‘You never get tired of doing that, do you?’ he asked, bringing his arms around her.

‘You’re never not surprised when I do it, are you?’ she volleyed back.

He laughed and drew her closer to him, closing his eyes at the comfort of their closeness.

‘You know, I bet it’s twelve by now,’ he mumbled, unfiltered thoughts making their way into words.

‘Mm,’ Ginny hummed. ‘Merry Christmas, Harry.’

He kissed her forehead, hands coming to her hair. He felt sleep overtaking him, and he let it, but not before whispering back to her.

‘Merry Christmas, Gin.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, last chapter! Finishing on Christmas Eve in the story, posted on Boxing day. Christmas altogether missed haha. Thank you for sticking with me throughout this story! I had a lot of fun, and I hope, whatever you celebrate or don't celebrate, you enjoyed reading this :))
> 
> You can always find more of me on Tumblr [Clarensjoy](https://clarensjoy.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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